Sunday, April 25, 2004
BOTSWANA - Internet access has become more unattainable and expensive as we have headed southward so I will have to update Botswana slightly later. Hopefully I will have something prepared for Botswana and Namibia in 6 days (our next rest day).
Thursday, April 15, 2004
LUSAKA, ZAMBIA - My first introduction to Zambia was a positive one. Before leaving for Africa, I had secured visas for all of the necessary countries except Zambia so I set aside $40 US specifically for this purpose. However, upon arriving in Zambia I learned that groups travel into Zambia for free so my rapidly depleting supply of dollars was saved. This along with the presence of Barclay's, the only bank in Africa which consistently accepted my ATM card, meant that I wouldn't have to part with dollars to secure local currency or rely on bank hours.
Zambia was also the first country where I attepted to transition from a leisure rider into a racer. On our first day in Zambia I was enjoying the rolling hills with minimal traffic when Wil and Armin, the second group of racers that day, approached me on an uphill. Their pace seemed agreeable so for the first time in the Tour I decided to follow them instead of just watching them speed past me. It was so nice drafting off of them that I felt like I was cheating as we passed rider after rider. However, I noticed that some riders attempted to follow us as we passed and quickly fell off of the pace when we started to climb. Meanwhile I was enjoying the rhythm of the hills, recovering on the downhills so that I could push it on the uphills. However, once we reached the lunch truck at 80 kilometres I had a decision to make. I am not a racer for many reasons. In addition to a certain lack of athletic prowess I also like to take a long lunch. Racers as a rule do not take lunch. Their lunch consists of getting off of the bike for about five minutes to refill water bottles and wolf down some food. My lunch consists of a half an hour of lingering over sandwiches while I chat with other riders. Then I take a bathroom break and reapply sunblock before getting back on the bike. I really hated the prospect of skipping lunch since I knew we would be riding 150 kilometers that day. However, when would I actually be in a position to race again? After all, this was the first time that I was racing after being on the Tour for three months!
I decided to go for it. I would play racer for as long as I could. I grabbed a sandwich but by the time I had finished a third of my sandwich, Wil and Armin had already finished their own. This would be a problem. Luckily Jillian came to my rescue. She wrapped up a sandwich for me to bring along for the road so I threw it, along with a peeled orange, into my bag and headed back to my bike. I quickly finished an energy bar and decided that I would follow Wil and Armin for as long as I could. Mentally I prepared to stay with them for another hour or until we reached 110 kilometres (whichever happened to occur later). However, the road had a different idea in mind. Around 100 kilometres into the ride the smooth pavement turned into a road that was marked by more potholes than pavement. Since I am quite small in size I had a difficult time seeing around Wil and Armin so instead of staying close and conserving energy by drafting I stayed at a distance from them in order to see better. I ended up alternating between braking to swerve around potholes and then sprinting to catch up with them as the surface improved. This was becoming exhausting! When the road switched to an unpaved road I ended up loosing them entirely.
I wasn't quite prepared to give up at this point. If I couldn't catch them I decided that I would try to hold off other riders for as long as possible. I stopped to pull my orange out of my bag. Then rode with my orange in hand; pulling off pieces, chewing them, and spitting out seeds as I sped along. Amazingly not a single rider caught up to me before the campsite securing me a fifth place finish for the day! As someone who has been stuck in the back of the pack accompanied by a security vehicle on so many days I had never imagined such a day would occur.
After this first "race day" I tried out racing two more days in Zambia. On a day we set out to ride 190 kilometres I decided to end my personal race at lunch. After all, I'm not crazy! However, on our day leading into the rest day in Lusaka when we were only scheduled to ride 90 kilometres I went for it. I didn't even stop to take lunch unless an energy bar on the road can be considered lunch. This time I ended up staying with the pack until the end of the ride! Ironically, I learned after the ride that this day wasn't even a "race" day so times were not taken.
After three days of riding we will reach Victoria Falls. On our rest day we will not be rafting on the famous Zambezi River because the water levels are too high. However, I am sure that we will be able to find another way to enjoy the falls.
Zambia was also the first country where I attepted to transition from a leisure rider into a racer. On our first day in Zambia I was enjoying the rolling hills with minimal traffic when Wil and Armin, the second group of racers that day, approached me on an uphill. Their pace seemed agreeable so for the first time in the Tour I decided to follow them instead of just watching them speed past me. It was so nice drafting off of them that I felt like I was cheating as we passed rider after rider. However, I noticed that some riders attempted to follow us as we passed and quickly fell off of the pace when we started to climb. Meanwhile I was enjoying the rhythm of the hills, recovering on the downhills so that I could push it on the uphills. However, once we reached the lunch truck at 80 kilometres I had a decision to make. I am not a racer for many reasons. In addition to a certain lack of athletic prowess I also like to take a long lunch. Racers as a rule do not take lunch. Their lunch consists of getting off of the bike for about five minutes to refill water bottles and wolf down some food. My lunch consists of a half an hour of lingering over sandwiches while I chat with other riders. Then I take a bathroom break and reapply sunblock before getting back on the bike. I really hated the prospect of skipping lunch since I knew we would be riding 150 kilometers that day. However, when would I actually be in a position to race again? After all, this was the first time that I was racing after being on the Tour for three months!
I decided to go for it. I would play racer for as long as I could. I grabbed a sandwich but by the time I had finished a third of my sandwich, Wil and Armin had already finished their own. This would be a problem. Luckily Jillian came to my rescue. She wrapped up a sandwich for me to bring along for the road so I threw it, along with a peeled orange, into my bag and headed back to my bike. I quickly finished an energy bar and decided that I would follow Wil and Armin for as long as I could. Mentally I prepared to stay with them for another hour or until we reached 110 kilometres (whichever happened to occur later). However, the road had a different idea in mind. Around 100 kilometres into the ride the smooth pavement turned into a road that was marked by more potholes than pavement. Since I am quite small in size I had a difficult time seeing around Wil and Armin so instead of staying close and conserving energy by drafting I stayed at a distance from them in order to see better. I ended up alternating between braking to swerve around potholes and then sprinting to catch up with them as the surface improved. This was becoming exhausting! When the road switched to an unpaved road I ended up loosing them entirely.
I wasn't quite prepared to give up at this point. If I couldn't catch them I decided that I would try to hold off other riders for as long as possible. I stopped to pull my orange out of my bag. Then rode with my orange in hand; pulling off pieces, chewing them, and spitting out seeds as I sped along. Amazingly not a single rider caught up to me before the campsite securing me a fifth place finish for the day! As someone who has been stuck in the back of the pack accompanied by a security vehicle on so many days I had never imagined such a day would occur.
After this first "race day" I tried out racing two more days in Zambia. On a day we set out to ride 190 kilometres I decided to end my personal race at lunch. After all, I'm not crazy! However, on our day leading into the rest day in Lusaka when we were only scheduled to ride 90 kilometres I went for it. I didn't even stop to take lunch unless an energy bar on the road can be considered lunch. This time I ended up staying with the pack until the end of the ride! Ironically, I learned after the ride that this day wasn't even a "race" day so times were not taken.
After three days of riding we will reach Victoria Falls. On our rest day we will not be rafting on the famous Zambezi River because the water levels are too high. However, I am sure that we will be able to find another way to enjoy the falls.
Friday, April 09, 2004
LILONGWE, MALAWI - I believe I spoke a bit too quickly when I wrote how lucky we were with the weather in Tanzania. From Iringa, Tanzania to Lilongwe, Malawi the predominant theme has been rain, rain, and more rain. One would have hoped that the rainy season which lasts in Malawi from November through April could have ended early. However, not a single 24-hour time period has passed without a rainstorm.
As a novice camper I lived under the illusion that rain in the evening is quite pleasant as long as your tent maintains its original waterproofing capabilities. The day before our rest day in Chitimba, Malawi started off calmly. The road was flat, straight, and a bit boring after the magnificent scenery of Tanzania. There was a headwind to help mask the humid air present at the low altitude where Lake Malawi is situated. I rode at a leisurely pace making a stop at a closed bank (who needs money Malawian kwatche anyway?) and at a restaurant for soda since I knew that our rest site would not have that many amenities beyond a lakeside location. There would not be any internet access or even a nearby town with stores or restaurants so why rush off to start the laundry process?
After dinner and some drinks at the camp bar I headed off for a now late bedtime of 10pm. As I walked towards my tent the rain started. I ran into my tent thinking how lucky I was to have already put up the fly earlier in the day. As I started reading I then thought about how comforting it is to hear the rain on your tent knowing that you are safe and dry inside. After about twenty minutes of heavy rain the floor of my tent started to feel kind of odd, rather mushy in fact. I tested out different sections of my tent floor to discover they were all soft. My Thermarest mattress was starting to feel like a waterbed so despite the rain I decided that I should investigate. My flip flops are always situated in-between my tent and the outer fly so before stepping outside I unzipped the tent instinctively reached down for them. However, my flip flops were not in their usual position; instead they were floating downstream! As I stepped outside so that I could reach the floating shoes my feet sunk into the ground and the water level reached up past my ankles. At this point I switched from calm fascination into Operation “Save the Tent”. Other campers in poorly situated lots had resorted to an emergency evacuation. I, however, decided to make use of the red plastic box for our belongings. I threw everything into the red box hoping that despite the lid’s inability to stay on tightly the box would be more waterproof then my tent’s floor. I left in the Thermarest and my sleeping bag liner in the tent, believing that these would dry quickly the next day. Since it was warm I didn’t leave the sleeping bag in the tent. Even I knew that a sleeping bag can be quite a nightmare to dry. We ended up being rather lucky in Chitimba. Despite the heavy rains continuing on and off throughout the night, the next day it did not rain until evening giving our belongings plenty of time to air out. However, this would not be the trend over the next few days. Although we have not yet experience flash flood like conditions again, often the window of drying time after each day of riding is about an hour between rainstorms. The weather in Malawi even at the higher elevations is also a bit too humid to help accelerate the drying process.
If it only rained in the evenings I could formulate some sort of evening tent ritual which would include placing the red box into the truck for the night (it wasn’t as waterproof as I originally predicted). However, the rains have often been just as heavy and prolonged during the day as they are in the evening. I switched from wearing my water resistant breathable jacket to my waterproof jacket simply because the water resistant jacket didn’t have enough time to dry by the next riding day. Also if I was going to have a wet jacket clinging to me as I rode I decided it was preferential (and warmer) to have one that was soaked by my own perspiration rather than by the rains. The weather often alternates every 15-20 kilometres between a downpour and overcast skies so I have also learned to ride with my dark glasses and sunblock on at all times so I am not constantly getting off of my bike to change lenses.
In addition to the weather Malawi has brought another challenge as well, finding Malawian kwatche. The banks seem to closer earlier and earlier each day (before I am able to ride to them) and our rest day unfortunately coincides with Good Friday a national holiday. Closed banks wouldn’t be a problem if the ATMs accepted foreign cards or businesses and hotels accepted credit cards. The prolonged rains have caused me to come down with a head cold so I ended up scrounging around money from individuals who have ended up with too much kwatche from cashing traveller’s checks to secure a hotel room on the rest day. I, of course, didn’t bring any traveller’s checks as most countries before Malawi did not accept them.
Despite the challenges I have enjoyed our eight short days in Malawi although I am convinced that it is the country where it always rains. I can only hope that our travel to Zambia tomorrow brings clear skies and ATMs which accept Mastercard! Hopefully, our rest day on April 15 in Lusaka also means internet access. I will attempt to be more positive in my next message (I think the head cold is getting to me).
As a novice camper I lived under the illusion that rain in the evening is quite pleasant as long as your tent maintains its original waterproofing capabilities. The day before our rest day in Chitimba, Malawi started off calmly. The road was flat, straight, and a bit boring after the magnificent scenery of Tanzania. There was a headwind to help mask the humid air present at the low altitude where Lake Malawi is situated. I rode at a leisurely pace making a stop at a closed bank (who needs money Malawian kwatche anyway?) and at a restaurant for soda since I knew that our rest site would not have that many amenities beyond a lakeside location. There would not be any internet access or even a nearby town with stores or restaurants so why rush off to start the laundry process?
After dinner and some drinks at the camp bar I headed off for a now late bedtime of 10pm. As I walked towards my tent the rain started. I ran into my tent thinking how lucky I was to have already put up the fly earlier in the day. As I started reading I then thought about how comforting it is to hear the rain on your tent knowing that you are safe and dry inside. After about twenty minutes of heavy rain the floor of my tent started to feel kind of odd, rather mushy in fact. I tested out different sections of my tent floor to discover they were all soft. My Thermarest mattress was starting to feel like a waterbed so despite the rain I decided that I should investigate. My flip flops are always situated in-between my tent and the outer fly so before stepping outside I unzipped the tent instinctively reached down for them. However, my flip flops were not in their usual position; instead they were floating downstream! As I stepped outside so that I could reach the floating shoes my feet sunk into the ground and the water level reached up past my ankles. At this point I switched from calm fascination into Operation “Save the Tent”. Other campers in poorly situated lots had resorted to an emergency evacuation. I, however, decided to make use of the red plastic box for our belongings. I threw everything into the red box hoping that despite the lid’s inability to stay on tightly the box would be more waterproof then my tent’s floor. I left in the Thermarest and my sleeping bag liner in the tent, believing that these would dry quickly the next day. Since it was warm I didn’t leave the sleeping bag in the tent. Even I knew that a sleeping bag can be quite a nightmare to dry. We ended up being rather lucky in Chitimba. Despite the heavy rains continuing on and off throughout the night, the next day it did not rain until evening giving our belongings plenty of time to air out. However, this would not be the trend over the next few days. Although we have not yet experience flash flood like conditions again, often the window of drying time after each day of riding is about an hour between rainstorms. The weather in Malawi even at the higher elevations is also a bit too humid to help accelerate the drying process.
If it only rained in the evenings I could formulate some sort of evening tent ritual which would include placing the red box into the truck for the night (it wasn’t as waterproof as I originally predicted). However, the rains have often been just as heavy and prolonged during the day as they are in the evening. I switched from wearing my water resistant breathable jacket to my waterproof jacket simply because the water resistant jacket didn’t have enough time to dry by the next riding day. Also if I was going to have a wet jacket clinging to me as I rode I decided it was preferential (and warmer) to have one that was soaked by my own perspiration rather than by the rains. The weather often alternates every 15-20 kilometres between a downpour and overcast skies so I have also learned to ride with my dark glasses and sunblock on at all times so I am not constantly getting off of my bike to change lenses.
In addition to the weather Malawi has brought another challenge as well, finding Malawian kwatche. The banks seem to closer earlier and earlier each day (before I am able to ride to them) and our rest day unfortunately coincides with Good Friday a national holiday. Closed banks wouldn’t be a problem if the ATMs accepted foreign cards or businesses and hotels accepted credit cards. The prolonged rains have caused me to come down with a head cold so I ended up scrounging around money from individuals who have ended up with too much kwatche from cashing traveller’s checks to secure a hotel room on the rest day. I, of course, didn’t bring any traveller’s checks as most countries before Malawi did not accept them.
Despite the challenges I have enjoyed our eight short days in Malawi although I am convinced that it is the country where it always rains. I can only hope that our travel to Zambia tomorrow brings clear skies and ATMs which accept Mastercard! Hopefully, our rest day on April 15 in Lusaka also means internet access. I will attempt to be more positive in my next message (I think the head cold is getting to me).
