We have just completed the longest day on the Tour d’Afrique. A gruelling 207km slog through the last bit of Botswana, into Namibia. Given our previous stories about the intricacies of African border crossings it may seem strange to have the longest day coincide with a border crossing but fear not, dear reader. The Botswana-Namibia crossing was a piece of cake. The day began at our beautiful campsite Ghanzi, Botswana with a pre-pre-dawn wakeup call. Riders gorged themselves on Muesli, PBnJ sandwiches and fresh fruit before hitting the tarmac at first light.   Lunch was held at over 80km, a ridiculous distance by Td’A standards, but riders were treated to extra cheese sandwiches and rice krispee squares prepared the night before by a cadre of volunteer chefs. All were in good spirits and the majority elected to continue on with the ridiculous distance. For those that didn’t, I have nothing but respect & admiration for the hard work and mental toughness they had exhibited to even get to that point.                 I began my afternoon sweep at that point. Today was a tough, tough day even when only riding half of it. The Heaven-sent tailwinds that we had enjoyed on the past few rides disappeared and were replaced by relatively strong cross and head winds. Something you definitely don’t want when faced by a 60km slog before your next chance to even get off your bike for a cool drink at a gas station. Still, the riders persevered. I arrived in camp long after the sun had disappeared over the horizon, exhausted, sweaty and happy. I had spent most of my sweep behind John Davis, our sole septuagenarian rider who had battled the day until dusk to ride triumphantly into camp, an event that was met by the tumultuous applause of all the riders who had come before him. I would like also to give special mention to Ernest Enns who also managed to conquer the entire distance. I sincerely hope to have the fitness and mental fortitude of these men when I reach their age.

So Td’A 2009 held its first Battle of the Nations Team Time Trial today (alliteration unintentional). The rules were far from simple but here they are:

1. Teams of Canadian Juniors, Canadian Masters, South Africans, Dutch, Britain and World.
2. The race was 20km long
3. South Africa and Britain team members had to switch jerseys and bikes for the first and last 1km, they had to get the race-starters a cup of tea and chocolate biscuit and had to dig holes to bury/ burn the organics and burnable waste before starting. The Dutch had to repair a bike chain and write the chorus of their national anthem in English before starting. The Canadian Junior team had to sing O’Canada, the Canadian Masters team had to sing O’Canada in French. The World team had to sing the first line of their respective national anthems. Naturally, these penalties were designed to give the teams with less strong riders a fighting chance.
4. Teams were not informed of their penalties until 30 seconds before race time.
5. Bonus points were awarded for most varieties of local flowers collected and funniest picture taken en-route.
6. Each rider of the team had to lead their team for 1km minimum but could drop off once their turn had been completed
7. Team times were recorded when the third person from their team crossed the line.
8. Bribes were allowed to be offered to the judges.
9. Points for creativity were awarded.
10. The losing team would be required to make tea on demand for the winning team for the next 24hrs.

 
Despite the complicated rules, everything turned out to be a smashing success. Last night when riders were informed of the teams, nationalities broke off to discuss strategies. South Africans began finding ways to secure their flags to their bikes, this morning the camp awoke to a chorus of “GO CANADA GO”, followed by several British riders informing them to “Jog on!” The excitement was palpable and a morning wake up song of “Bicycle Race” by Queen was relatively warmly received.

 

The race went exactly as expected… slower riders took their turns at the front early on and then dropped off to collect bonus points, allowing the powerhouses to thunder towards the finish. Team World was severely constrained by having their three of their four strongest riders dropping a chain, blowing two flats and shattering a front hub. Somehow they managed not to loose, I don’t know how.

 

            At the finish line groups of three bombed across and then awaited their countrymen. The South African front runners doubled back for some group photos and then rode across the finish line en masse singing their national anthem again in Xhosa, the British treated the masses with a rendition of, “God Save our Team” and Team World regaled everyone else with “haunting” rendition of “We Are the World”. Our cook James took charge of counting the flowers people brought across, occasionally asking if they in fact could tell the difference between a flower and a seed.  

            While the victors, Canada Seniors, clearly came in the win… the losers were harder to identify. Both the Dutch and British teams finished at the bottom of the pool with times 1 second apart. To break the tie both teams had roughly 5 minutes to dress one of their male team members as a woman. The British won that one and so the Dutchies will be making tea for the Canadians for a while.

 

            I think that today was one of the best days on the Td’A. Everyone got into the spirit of this fun event, no one offered the judges bribes to hurt other teams, no foul play was attempted and the South Africans even threatened to have the race leader Mark killed if they didn’t win. Seeing how it was the Canadian seniors who were victorious, I am worried for ole’ Marky. Good thing he is the only one that can fix broken bikes.

 
Standings:

 

Canada Masters: 34:45

South Africa: 36:45

Canada Junior: 36:47

World: 39:11

UK: 48:18

Dutch: 48:19

The Elephant Highway stage of the Tour d’Afrique is famous for two things: our two-tusked friends and long days in the saddle. But why stop at 150km, when 300km has a sounds far more fulfilling?

 

My fourth day riding the Tour had been, like others before it, tough but thrilling. Once again I was getting a huge kick out of  riding, sometimes in groups or pairs and sometimes alone, pinching myself that I was on two wheels speeding (sometimes) through the Botswana grasslands and salt-pans.  

So much was I enjoying the day that when I stopped at a refreshment fill-up that I forgot how to ride my bike and fell over, grazing my knee like a schoolboy in a football match. This mildly painful incident occupied my mind for the next 25km, by which point I began to consider that I may have ridden, assisted by a hefty tail-wind, right past our bush-camp for the night.

 

It was at this point that odd part of the human brain which defies common sense spoke up. ‘We’re going to Maun then. It’s only another 130km. There is a pool there.’ And on I went, aiming for Maun. Thirty minutes later, I hit a giant pothole and blew out both tires. An hour on, I found a coke stop that no other rider found. It may have been a divine intervention.

 

Thirty kilometers from Maun I got another puncture and, exhausted after nine hours in the saddle and the searing heat, stuck my arm out. Astonishingly, the first truck that went past skidded to a halt and the driver gestured for me to climb in. A taxi ride from the outskirts of Maun to our verdant oasis of a hotel later and I met the four other riders who’d (intentionally) done the double day.

 

Unbeknownst to me the lack of mobile reception meant me message hadn’t got through to camp and I am buying several beers for the guys who were chasing after me almost all the way to Maun. But like everything on the Tour easy-going bonhomie covers a multitude of sins and when the other riders arrived today I was greeted like the runaway fool I was and have enjoyed a day of gentle ribbing. I am colour blind (missing a multitude of pink ribbon flagging the camp) and that I work for a company called ‘What planet am I on?’ Line of day goes to speedy rider Frankie ‘Hey! 300km Man! And you didn’t even mean to!’

 

- Tom Hall

Malaysian Spiced Chicken for 60 on rice, with side coleslaw made with purple cabbage.

 

1. Mix together 80 pieces of freshly butchered chickens (best to butcher away from clients, unless the intension is to impress them with your butchery skills or to intimidate.) with coriander, cumin, tumeric, paprika, and cloves.

 

2. Separately mix water, vinegar, sugar, pineapple, corn flour, and set aside.

 

3. Stir-fry ginger, garlic, onion, red peppers, lemon. Add chicken stir-fry until no longer pink inside, and nicely browned on the outside.

 

4. Separately make a smaller portion of Malaysian Spiced Chick Peas for the vegetarians.

 

5. Pour in the sauce you made in step 2. Cook on low for 20 minutes. Set aside until dinner time.

 

6. Cook 20 kg of rice, so that it finishes just in time for dinner.

 

7. Once the pre-dinner rider meeting is called, put the Spiced Chicken / Chick Peas back on the heat in anticipation of dinner (rider meetings are generally 15 min. before dinner).

 

8. Set out the massive pots, find some big spoons and start serving.

 

Enjoy…

Alright, so I understand that I am a bit behind the ball in seeing wildlife so far on this tour. Most everyone took the opportunity in Arusha to do a safari, but since I am going to be meeting my Mom in Cape Town to do a Safari with her I elected to make it as special as possible by not intentionally seeking a cacophony of animals beforehand. That being said, we are on the Elephant Highway and sighting these beautiful animals is clearly impossible. Yesterday, our first day in Botswana, most of the Td’A riders elected to take a Chobe River cruise… I was amongst them. Within 40 minutes of boarding the boat I spotted the first wild elephant of my life. It was a grey, lump of elephant ass moving about 600m away up a hill. My heart skipped a beat, I was enraptured. Shortly thereafter we came upon a massive bull grazing in the shallow water bank and our captain navigated the boat to within a stones throw of him. We watched as he scratched himself on a massive tree, grabbed floating grasses, thrash them against the water and gorge himself. It was awesome.

 

Today I was on lunch duty, meaning that I was on one of the trucks racing ahead of the riders to get their lunch ready before heading out on the afternoon sweep. Within the first 10 minutes of the drive our mechanic Mark began yelping like a startled puppy: “ELEPHANTS! ELEPHANTS! 1! 2! 4! 7! ELEPHANTS!!!”. Right along the side of the road was a herd of 10 elephants, including babies and the old bull we had seen the night before. I believe that I can now say with authority that without a doubt elephants are the coolest things ever.  

The riding today was pretty awesome as well. A long, hard day with some strong early headwinds along the flat, long and well maintained Botswanan roads. Some of our team even elected to ride a double day, 310km. It is incredible the level of fitness that the riders have developed in these three short months. It’s pretty cool… but not as cool as elephants.

It is hard to believe that we only have two more countries ahead of us. Today the Td’A 2009 Team crossed into Botswana. The past two days were spent at Victoria Falls on the Zambian side where riders engaged in laundry, bungee jumping and booze cruisin’. A thoroughly exhilarating 48 hrs. Some even ventured over into Zimbabwe and were pleasantly surprised to find that all their worldly possessions weren’t given, by court order, over to “War Veterans”. Today was a relatively easy 80km trek to the short ferry ride over the border. The rest of the Elephant Highway promises to be much more of a challenge.

It is not often that one can assimilate to a country by merely seeing their flag; however, Botswana’s flag of light blue and black band running across the center perfectly represents our Botswanan riding experience. The black stripe being the thin ribbon of tarmac we occupy every day, and the predominance of blue represents every day’s vast sky overhead. We are more than three quarters along the bisecting black line and nearly to the final section of the tour, the Diamond Coast. Chilly nights are reminding us we are no longer in the northern hemisphere’s spring, but experiencing the onset of fall. Another more obvious reminder is the species of animals we are encountering along the road—sable, zebra, giraffe, and elephants, of which we have seen many. Winds are shifting in our favor, easing the mental trauma of cycling consecutive centuries. Lastly, towns are becoming increasingly Western, stocking goods we’ve craved since leaving the pyramids. With only three more bush camps and an equal number of rest days away between us and Cape Town, we are realizing this odyssey is drawing to a close. Our kilometers remain big, our accommodations improve as we progress southward, and we are beginning to think about the first thing we will do when back home.

In the long, flat, blurring, kilometers lunch came today as a moment of daisavue. Lost on the open planes of Botswana’s Kalahari Desert, it felt like a week of lunches was blurred into one long line of days spent in the saddle. With only a change in menu marking the difference between dreamy memories and today’s reality; tuna, spreads, fruit and cookies seemed like a misplaced puzzle piece in a four month long journey. On these flat stretches of road, the closing kilometers of the tour are symbolic of the cycle that one hundred plus days on tour will bring. Since the first morning of red boxes, tent packing, and sleeping bags to the first night of dinner chatting and journaling a rotation was set the has been mirrored by the endless spinning of legs and wheels here across the Kalahari. As the speed of the tour has changed so have the personalities on tour, both varying across the continent. Yet now as the sun is setting on the final three weeks of the tour the flats have moved legs and speed into a predictable constant much as time has moved each rider into a constant pattern on tours. Even with the variations of wind and tired legs the same smiling faces are up early each morning to great the same glaring grimaces from others each morning. In this constant flat of Botswana more then just the landscape has shown us the constants of life on tour, the people them selves.

Last week, I spoke of the most fabulous Coke stops we’ve had along the way. Let me tell you, the Coke stops in Botswana have dried up—there’s hardly any people around, so there’s nowhere to stop, get off the bike, take in the view, chat, relax, and get geared up for the kilometers ahead. However, we just experienced the Taj Mahal, the Serengeti, the Everest of Coke stops. Not only did we have access yesterday, to a clean, modern and comfortable campsite. Also access to showers, a pool and a bar, but we also today had a pool stop at 105k—yes a pool stop. After the last few days of long kilometers (170 today, 170 yesterday, 145 the day before), hot sun (though cool nights), no Coke stops (though we’ve set up refreshment stands with fruit and fast fuel), to come across such an oasis, after lunch and before a bush campsite, is beyond description. Many of us stayed for a couple hours, swimming, relaxing on the deck, drinking juice, beer or Fantas. We even enjoyed fantastically comfortable cow hide chairs and took in the “Drum” magazine photos and chandeliers made out of green Amstel bottles. Ahhh, how refreshing! Most are of the opinion that it is the preeminent Coke stop, hands down. We’re definitely becoming spoiled with showers between rest days, access to a variety of food, snacks, and pools, of all things. Tomorrow, we’ve got 150k to get to Maun, followed by a rest day. In the meantime, we’ll have a good team time trial to run, where 4 people have to race together for 20k, with whatever creative costumes and themes they conceive.

There is something familiar about the roads we are pedaling over, I even hear this feeling reflected from the riders who have traveled the prairies in Canada—pancake flat, straight for hours and nothing to distinguish the first 10 km from the last 10km. This section is called Elephant Highway, but you must look carefully to discover its namesake. It wasn’t until I saw something in the bushes at a watering hole that I remembered I am in Africa. My day began late due to the pleasant job of digging holes for waste and burning any paper products (which is actually quite therapeutic). Upon doing a mental check of all things important while on a bike: air in tires, spare tube, cycling computer, sunscreen, sunglasses, Botswana pula, toilet paper, water in water bottles, energy bars and, most importantly, my camera. The sun rose, casting a silhouette of me and my bike over the road, which was to become my video of the day. After expending a good portion my memory card on “the one,” I called it a wrap, stopped riding and started to pack up. Now, I’ve told stories before and like any good story a bit of embellishment is expected, so when I tell the rest of this try not to think it over the top storytelling. I have my video camera in my hand, about to put it into my rack bag, when I hear a noise come from the tall grass. The noise could be best described as baritone and guttural. The best comparison would come from the start of a movie when the MGM icon appears and roars… its not the big roar but the low kind of purr that tapers off… needless to say my instinct was to stuff anything else into the pockets in my jersey and sort it out later… I went through all potential animals that could make that noise and a feline was the only one. I didn’t stick around nor did I go back to confirm. These are not the prairies; I am in Africa.