Check out Jacob Warner's video on his 2010 Tour d'Afrique experience!

                                        Tim (middle) at the end of the road

Hello All,
 
When you think of Africa, what comes to mind?
 
The 2010 Tour d'Afrique is complete and I would like to thank you all for your contributions to SELF; for helping to spread the word; and for following my progress.  Your involvement has touched me deeply.
 
I would like to say that in the past four months, I experienced an intimate discovery of African culture.  I did experience an intimate view of some African roads, traffic and majestic landscapes; but the tour dynamic was my focal point, which seemed to leave little time to immerse myself in the African cultures. However, I did get a lot closer to Africa's vibe than my usual perch which can usually only see the likes of the New York Times or the BBC.
 
So what does the word "Africa" bring to mind?  I'm guessing - poverty/war/corrupt dictators/lions and elephants.  While I saw some lion and elephant, I saw no poverty I haven't seen in New York City, I didn't see any fighting, and I didn't meet any dictators(that I know of).  This doesn't mean Africa does not have any of the above, it's just that those images should not define this large complex continent.
 
I chose to raise money for SELF - an NGO whose mission is to help developing countries improve their infrastructure.  After my journey, I am even more optimistic that SELF's model will be more productive - then simply giving money - for Africa's future. As I experienced first hand, if you give a person some cash, they spend it to satiate an immediate desire, which is soon forgotten, but yet the expectation for a handout is even stronger.  However, if you give someone the opportunity to make something for you, they might drive a hard bargain, but they take pride in the work they have done.  Instead of exploiting Africa's resources, what if the developed world helped Africa learn how capitalize its own natural and intellectual resources?
 
Africa is the 2nd largest continent (bigger then North America and Europe) and it has 54 countries, where 2000 different languages are spoken by a billion people - this is what I found on wikipedia.  What I found on our bike ride, is the people are proud, friendly, hospitable and willing to work for their future....If left to their own devices.  
 
Thank you again for your support.
 
Sincerely,

Tim


www.thisisafrica2010.com

How do you describe the best/worst/most intense 4 months of your life?  I’ve been asked to write up a little thing about the Tour D’Afrique, a four month-long bike ride from the top of Africa to the bottom.   Ever since I was a boy I’ve dreamed of going to Egypt.  Pictures of pyramids and mummies and The Sphinx captured my imagination.  Now not only was I going, I was going to begin a huge journey there.  On a chilly January morning, myself and about 60 other riders were taking off on the adventure of a lifetime.  Bicycling from Cairo to Cape Town seemed like a good idea at the time.  How hard can it be to ride a bike down a continent?  Why do I do things like this?

Earlier today another rider and I were discussing the fact that we only have 747 more kilometres to go.  This used to seem like a pretty big number to me.  Now I’m not even remotely fazed by it.  It almost seems too easy; is there a catch somewhere?  There always is.  We’ve ridden over every type of terrain imaginable: sand, loosely packed gravel, corrugated dirt roads, lava rocks, and occasionally even paved roads in good repair.  We’ve ridden on bright sunny days, horrendous thunderstorms, bitter cold mornings, and I even got hailed on once (hail? Aren’t I in friggin’ Africa?).  We’ve ridden through the deserts of Sudan where there wasn’t another soul on the road (I was listening to my ipod one day and forgot about the folks on the lunch truck that drove by; they had a good laugh at my expense when they caught me dancing whilst riding).  We’ve ridden through Ethiopia where each and every child in every single village expects you to smile and wave at them (they’ll pelt you with rocks whether you wave or not).  We’ve ridden past the pyramids of Egypt, the waterfalls in Malawi (life doesn’t get much better than getting off the bike and soaking yourself under a waterfall on a blisteringly hot day), and the barren wasteland that seems to compose most of Botswana.  We’ve seen elephants, zebra, giraffe, springbok, and an entire barrel full of monkeys.  We’ve met starving children in Zambia (I tried to give them my broccoli... Mom, they didn’t want it either).  We’ve gotten rides in tuk tuks, cabs, backs of pickup trucks, matatus,  the odd dump truck, and a few guys even rode camels for a bit.  We bungee jumped from Victoria Falls (well I didn’t, I’m far too much of a coward to do something like that), climbed Kilimanjaro, visited monasteries in Ethiopia, went swimming in the Nile (never try to skip a stone when you’re wearing your keys around your wrist; swimming isn’t always just for fun) . We went on safari at the Ngorogoro Crater, and stayed in tiny villages where everyone who lived there was at least distantly related.   We went from huge cities where no one noticed us, to small towns where all the people would come out and watch us stop and drink Fanta, and rode through the suburbs of Nairobi which look identical to suburbs everywhere.  We’ve suffered from diarrhea, saddle sores, broken bones, back pain, leg cramps, and daily exhaustion.  We’ve complained about poor service in restaurants, long days, each other, people watching your every move, each other, overly inquisitive children, mobs of unruly boys, and each other.  Yet each day we’re up and ready to start again.  Every day on this trip has brought some new adventure, which is kind of amazing since every day is fairly similar:  wake up far too early, eat breakfast, ride your bike a ridiculously long distance, eat lunch, ride even further, eat dinner, then go to bed. 

The one thing that has made this trip truly unforgettable is the people, individuals from 20 or so countries with nothing in common other than being idiotic enough to sign up for a trip like this.  It sounds like the tag line to a bad reality show.  People that you normally wouldn’t acknowledge if you passed them on the street suddenly become you’re best friend.  I now know more about many people on this trip than their own relatives do.  When you have a 6 hour day ahead of you, with nothing to occupy your time other than pedal and repeat, you start talking to folks quite a bit.  You discover their dreams and aspirations.  You discuss what really matters, because there is no TV.  You also discuss your favourite episode of MASH and why Dick Sergent was better than Dick York.  These are people and conversations that will stick with you for life.  However, these same people wouldn’t recognize you if you were to get a different shirt, because they only know you in the three you wear every day. 

I’ve been asked if I’d do this trip again, the answer never varies, “Not in a million years!”  However would I recommend this trip to others, without a moment’s hesitation.  This trip will make you appreciate what you have at home.  It’ll also make you realize what your life has been lacking.  It will make you weep with both joy and sorrow (occasionally at the same time).  You will feel more alive than you’ve ever felt, often when wishing you were dead.  You will be ecstatic to crawl into your tent every night and eating oatmeal in the morning will be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.  You will never want to go home, but miss it with all your heart.  I could never do this again, but in my head, and for the rest of my life I will be doing it daily. 

   -- Dave Arman

Down to the Final Four – that is last four countries of the Tour d’Afrique and at this point, there is so much to tell you, and not sure where to start……….?!?!??!?!  

At the beginning of the tour, and what seems like an absolute age ago, there was a whole lot of pain, sickness, suffering and punishment. The word “miserable” became a catch phrase of this trip as it was used so often. Now as we travel south, it was all worthwhile - this part of the tour is sensory overload, sights, sounds, places to see, absolute fun, lots of laughs and everyday I am having ohhhhhhmigawwwwwwwwwwwwd experiences!!! And all from the seat of my bicycle…!  

Last blog we were on our way out of Malawi (minus the Madonna sightings!) and heading towards the Zambian border. Before I left, a couple of the South African contingent of the tour, Michelle and Andre, invited four of us to have dinner with the South African High Commissioner to Malawi. The High Commissioner didn’t know them, but had become aware of their fundraising efforts. Not knowing what I was in for I gratefully accepted the invitation. We were picked up in the biggest blackest (I mean REALLY black!) chauffer driven BMW…complete with the South African flags on each corner of the vehicle. These blew in the wind as we were whisked through the city of Lilongwe – nothing like a fast moving vehicle and a couple of flags to feel VERY important!  We arrived at this very razzy restaurant that was of course run by South Africans, and had an exquisite dinner with the High Commissioner and her husband. Hubby was no slouch – he was the previous South African Ambassador to Iran. They met long ago as members of the South African Parliament. When he was fulfilling his Ambassadorial roles, she played the role of “spouse” and mother and now that he had retired, it was her time to shine. They laughed about the “payback” and he was wonderfully supportive. It was a great story, love it! Anyway, amazingly interesting couple who were very open, generous, interested and warm. The following day, the TDA Foundation donated 70 bicycles to charities in Malawi and the High Commissioner was so supportive of what we are doing that she cleared her diary and came and added a whole lotta star power to the event! Fantastic!   Just before we crossed the border the following day, a group of us broke the ride up by calling into an orphanage which was en route. I got a huge kick out of the warm response we received. The children and staff were chuffed that we were so interested to meet and see what they were up to. We hadn’t made an appointment, we showed up on our bikes and they were so welcoming. They sang and danced for us – a wonderful experience I will always remember.

We crossed the border into Zambia and the capital of Lusaka provided much excitement to the group…… this was our first real sign of Western influences. There were shopping malls, movie theatres, fast food chains in abundance and things that we take for granted back home were absolutely coveted! Not unusual to come across a bunch of riders onto their fourth or fifth milkshake, all consumed in one sitting…..!! Haha!

We then made our way towards Victoria Falls, known as Mosi-oa-Tunya in the Kosolo language - “The Smoke that Thunders”. For me, this was been one of the absolute highlights of the tour so far and lived up to its name.  The Zambezi River at this time of year is flowing really rapidly. The huge volumes of water create a mist that shoots up towards the sky and creates the most magnificent sight and spectacle. Not only was there huge anticipation, but we also had two rest days rather than the usual one…Ahhhh! There was so much to do and see in the town of Livingstone. Top of the list for me (and probably of little surprise!) was the helicopter flight over the Falls – well, this did not disappoint and was absolutely knock your socks off, brilliant!!! I loved it!!

With a group of other riders, I traveled over the border to Zimbabwe to stay at a safari lodge that is run by &Beyond (formerly C&C Africa). This company is privately owned by the Rothschild family and has a number of private game parks throughout Africa.  It provides guests with the most exquisite, personalized and amazing African experience. Their modus operandi focuses on ecotourism, animal conservation and giving back to the local community. It was an absolute treat to stay there…the elephants popped by my villa at four in the afternoon and the hippo’s came and grazed on my front lawn at night!!! This was their home and I was just lucky enough to witness it!! The days were filled with safari game drives that I can never ever get enough of…!

We then headed east towards Kasane and Chobe National Park. Again an absolute viewing bonanza for African wildlife. What made this different though is that we did a river safari down the Chobe River. Here we able to see the animals come to the river at sunset. Not only are the African sunsets brilliant, but the interaction of the animals with the waiting crocodiles was something that I had not witnessed before…

Next stop Botswana. When describing Botswana the tour books usually start with something like….. “Botswana is an arid country, drought prone in most areas…..” Just as we experienced in Eqypt and Kenya, when the TDA comes to town that is all mucked up….we experienced seven days of torrential rain and even hail. NOT fair! This section of the tour has the longest days and distances….roads are dead straight and mind numbingly flat and the scenery is not exciting. Our average day is about 180kms of nothing-ness. We skirted around the Kalahari desert, so the vegetation was similar to that in Australia - low shrubs, dust and dirt….blah!

The highlight was when we reached Maun and saw the Okavango Delta…Holy smoke it was HUGE! We chartered a plane and did the Delta from the air – we felt it would be he only way to get a true feeling of the size – from here the animal viewing was prime time also!

This week was really special too, as the oldest rider on tour had his 71^st birthday! Yep, correct 71…good going huh? His name is Bill Nelems and he is a Canadian man who was born in South Africa. He is passionate about everything that he does, passionate about Africa and passionate about life! He is a leader in the medical field and was the first doctor in Canada to do a lung transplant. He now places his time and energy into an NGO that he started that educates and trains local doctors and nurses in the Western Provence of Zambia. It has had extraordinary success with the myriad of health issues that affect this very poor country, so much so that the government has requested that the program be rolled out to other areas of Zambia.

Anyway, Bill decided that he was going to fundraise for the NGO by doing the Tour d’Afrique…and it just happened to coincide with his birthday! The day of his birthday he rode the whole 208kms and crossed the border of Botswana to Namibia. At the border post, the immigration officials were so blown away with what he was doing (and his age!) that they broke into spontaneous song! He has so many wonderful and interesting stories about his time spent in Africa and I have learnt so much about the health issues that riddle and affect this huge continent.  His history lessons are always dead set entertaining too! He is really an amazing man who is sharp as a whip, quick witted, loves young people, funny and has boundless energy. I have loved getting to know Bill and he has inspired me in so many ways – but to ride your bike across Africa on your 71^st birthday?? WOW!

We are now in Windhoek, the capital of Namibia and the feeling on the tour is a little mixed. There is this HUGGGGE excitement that in just over two weeks we will be in Cape Town, be seeing loved ones and the tour will be over. But then the other side is that it will be sad when this whole experience and the adventure is over. We have spent 24/7 with the other cyclists for the last three and half months. We have seen each others good sides and we have seen the flaws, there has been many fun times, lots of laughs and there has been fights……all to be expected when we have lived in each others pockets for so long. Life long friendships have formed and relationships have blossomed, but in three weeks time it will all be over and we will have all gone our separate ways… back to the different pockets of the globe and will never again get the opportunity to be together as a group again. In some ways this is very sad. In other ways, that is life and we realise that we have been so incredibly lucky to have had such an amazing experience and one that we will cherish fondly for the rest of our lives!  

Onto Cape Town we ride….!



   --- Annalise Thompson

The rest day in Lilongwe is one of those typical ones where most of your time is occupied with arranging things like laundry, bike repairs, napping, eating, et cetera, instead of site seeing, which is not a real issue as there is not much to see in this town. The campsite is nice, with even a swimming pool to cool off. At the end of the day we have a bike handover ceremony; part of the TDA entry fee goes to bike donations, and as the ceremony is partly sponsored by Castle (the south African beer brand), it becomes an enjoyable evening. At lunch I was able to stack three enormous Dutch pancakes in a hotel downtown, concluded with an ice-cream; how wonderful life can be with a full stomach. At the supermarket I buy a kilo of chocolate to keep me going the coming few days. Yes, It’s all about food! The new section takes us across the ‘Great Eastern Road’ (I am not really sure why as we are moving mostly westwards trying to cross the continent to the coast of Namibia), and starts with a stretch of 5 days to Lusaka, the capital of Zambia. The distances per day are getting longer, because it slightly flattens out, and the winds are pre-dominantly east winds. I guess this is because the TDA assumes a higher fitness level. The first day is 152km and involves crossing the border into Zambia, with the usual exit and entry stamps and the money changing, which involves some sharp head calculations and negotiation tactics as the street money changers are real scam artists. The second day is the toughest, and therefore the Mando day, with 197km and 1200 meters of climbing. Added to that the temperature quickly rises to 35 degrees and a humidity of 90%. It becomes a brutal day in many aspects, and for me mentally the toughest. The scenery of the ‘true Africa’, as Zambia is called, is not as spectacular as I imagined, but it is also partly invisible for us cyclists due to the high grass on the sides of the road. All the Mando days so far had some special elements like astounding scenery, dirt, heavy rains, big climbs, et cetera, but this is just a straight paved road with rolling hills, and it seems to go on forever.

At the end of the day I have ridden 207km, burnt 4850 calories, sat on the bike for 6h:21m, and I am completely stretched, all my energy is gone, and I have to sit down to prevent falling over! Next to riding fast on your bike, you can also carry stuff on it, and the African people take this a step further. I have shot a couple of pictures, I already had a few Miss Piggy’s, and added to that I have seen large piles of wood, stacks of charcoal, huge plastic tons, and even a big size goat who was stuck in a special constructed wooden rack on the back of the bike.

It was a though week, I can't really tell why because it was all pavement, but my heart rate monitor does give an indication: 17.000 calories burnt on the bike in 6 riding days, that is more then the dirt section we have done or the Kenya lava rock. And racing for more than 200km doesn't help it. But there are always these nice surprise, small little treats when you least expect them. For instance after a long and hot day of riding a nice cold beer in the local cafe, followed by an excellent african shower under the water pump!

By the way: somehow I made it to the newspaper, the Volkskrant, a few people pointed it out to me. It was in the travel section of last weekend’s edition, about long distance cycling, and there is a small snippet about the tour d'afrique.

   -- Frans Smit

As I was enjoying a dip in Mama Rula’s swimming pool in Chipata earlier this week, I thought for a split second that the more beaten paths of Southern Africa might offer TDA riders some creature comforts in between our long, hot rides.  We have certainly seen more showers, supermarkets and Snickers bars south of the Equator, but as James the cook warned me, the Tour never really gets easier and we will continue to face both expected challenges and unexpected curveballs as we progress through each section.  James’ infinite wisdom must be the secret ingredient in his perennially popular TDA dinner dish, Spaghetti Bolognese.

For the past five days, the Tour d’Afrique has cycled from the border town of Chipata deep into the heart of Zambia, following the path of “the Great Eastern Road.”  We cycled westward on the Great Eastern Road, and I’m pretty sure there’s a metaphor somewhere in there about going against the grain and taking the road less traveled by.  This mentality sums up the type of person who embarks on the Tour d’Afrique. 

In just five days, Zambia’s sporadic thatched huts, football-loving children and lush, green horizons have left us more speechless than our longest distance yet, 197 kilometers, and days with 1-2,000 meters of ascent.  The mileage, temperature and currency are inflated in Zambia, but we have not been without TDA-style creature comforts along the way.  At a school camp, we celebrated British Tony and Australian Juliana’s birthdays with cold beer and dessert.  At a very warm bush camp, we all took the best showers of the Tour (since the garden hose at the Dongola zoo that is) under a “mysterious, magical water pump.”  The unexpected curveball wasn’t until our last bush camp before our rest day in Lusaka.

The day before the day before the rest day is always the toughest mentally for me, and we faced 148 HILLY kilometers along the Great Eastern Road, with legs deadened by the dehydrating effects of the week’s mileage and heat.  I finally rolled into camp around 3pm, and threw up my tent to allow time to enjoy James’ best Spaghetti Bolognese yet and a TDA Foundation bike donation ceremony.  As I fell asleep with a full heart and fuller belly under the stars, I felt comfortable and peaceful in my tent.

A few hours later, I woke up to the unsettling sensation that something was crawling up my arm.  This is never a pleasant realization in Africa, so I decided to give it a flick and keep my headlamp off.  A few minutes later, it sounded like it was raining…under my tent, and I felt something crawling up my other arm.  I reluctantly turned on my headlamp to investigate and gasped in utter horror at the sight of hundreds of ants crawling up, down and around every part of the inside of my tent.  I jumped out of the tent and put on my shoes, only to find that they too were full of biting, stinging ants that started crawling up my legs and latched on harder as I tried to flick them off.  I hopped around in my underwear yelping at 2am (a generally common occurrence unfortunately for various reasons), flicking off fire ants for about ten minutes, before deciding what to do about the more serious tent situation.

Armed with a headlamp, DEET bugspray and a book, I waged World War Three on the Zambian ant army for the rest of the night.  I vaguely noticed a few other lights on in tents and wondered at the status of other riders, but didn’t have time or the DEET weaponry to fight a multiple-front war.  The next morning at breakfast, I saw several other riders with the same battle-weary bite-wounds covering their legs and bags under their eyes.  Apparently our tents were stationed in some sort of migratory insect path, and ants invaded at least six rider tents.  Two riders went out to use the facilities, and left the bushes with ants in their pants!  Canadian Steph (an outdoor guide) described it as one of the most intense nights of camping in her life.  American Paul cut his losses early and went to sleep in the truck.  German Gisi said something about her night in German, but we all got the gist.  Ants in our pants and tents certainly fall into the category of unexpected and in retrospect hilarious TDA curveballs.  We will rest in Lusaka tomorrow, and then face more challenges, curveballs and comforts along the road to Victoria Falls.  

   -- Erin Sprague

Sunil Shah

O Tour d'Afrique é oficialmente a corrida de bicicletas mais longa do mundo (o que pode ser verificado no Guinness, o livros dos Recordes) e eu gostaria de oferecer algumas dicas para alguém que esteja pensando em participar nos próximo anos. Baseio-me em minhas experiências e observações nos últimos 3 meses, e por isso, no atual formato da prova. No início da viagem, havia 35 pessoas (dos 60 participantes) competindo, e no momento em que escrevo, menos de 25.

Breve explicação de como a prova funciona (em 2010)
O Tour é dividido em 96 etapas individuais (apesar de, para nós, ser 95 por causa do dia livre extra que tivemos quando um dos veículos de apoio estragou) e cada etapa é uma prova aparte. Além das etapas individuais, há seções compostas por várias etapas – geralmente (mas nem sempre) de uma capital à outra. Há resultados separados para cada etapa, para cada seção, e para a prova inteira.

Todos os dias, cada competidor, equipado com um botão de tempo, irá cronometrar o tempo de um acampamento ao outro. O tempo é arredondado em minutos, e registrado a cada etapa. O ranking é baseado no tempo, sendo o vencedor aquele com o menor tempo. Assim, há rankings de cada etapa, seção, e de todo o Tour. Mesmo que não participe de toda a prova, qualquer ciclista no Tour pode escolher competir uma determinada seção e pontuará no ranking daquela seção.

A corrida do dia pode não ser toda a etapa, podendo o Diretor da prova optar por terminá-la mais cedo em dias em que, por alguma razão, possa ser logisticamente impossível ou até mesmo perigoso competir - i.e. dias de fronteiras, ou chegando em grandes cidades. Em algumas ocasiões, por motivos parecidos, etapas inteiras não serão competidas, e todos recebem o mesmo tempo por aquele dia (ainda assim pedala-se todo o trecho, mas não como uma competição).

Se um competidor não termina uma etapa, por qualquer razão, seu tempo do dia será de 12 horas. Por outro lado, no ato de calcular a soma geral dos tempos, cada competidor recebe 3 dias de “brinde”, que cancelam os tempos de suas etapas mais longas. Por fim, há várias etapas obrigatórias, que são particularmente longas e/ou pesadas. Esses dias obrigatórios não podem ser utilizados como dias de “brinde”. O vencedor de cada uma dessas etapas obrigatórias recebe ainda um bônus de 30 minutos. Qualquer competidor que termine a prova intacto, com o status EFI (Every Fabolous Inch) dado para aqueles que pedalaram cada metro dos 12 mil km da prova, recebe ainda um bônus de 6 horas em seu tempo.

Competir o Tour é diferente de simplesmente participar, em vários aspectos que listo abaixo.
 
1. Tirar menos fotografias
Normalmente, para tirar fotos decentes, você tem que diminuir sua velocidade,ou até mesmo parar. Na maioria das vezes, essa não é uma opção se você está preocupado com seu tempo ou, especialmente se você está pedalando com outras pessoas (ver item 3). A mentalidade dos competidores é a de que nada deva atrapalhar o caminho.

2. Almoços mais curtos
Não há um mecanismo para descontar o tempo do almoço – isso parece uma falha técnica do Tour d’Afrique mais que algo proposital. O tempo que você escolhe parar para comer conta para seu tempo total. Isso significa que, nos dias que você está tentando uma boa colocação, não vai querer perder tempo comendo. Alguns competidores nem mesmo param para o almoço, outros param, pegam água e voltam para a estrada. Não é justo, mas é crucial quando cada minuto importa.

3. Trabalhar em equipes
É necessário e extremamente vantajoso pedalar com outros ciclistas. Em algumas etapas (montanhas e estradas de terra) nem sempre é possível, mas em dias mais longos de estrada será o diferencial entre pontuar bem e apenas sobreviver ao pedal. Economiza-se bastante energia quando pegando vácuo, e em uma prova de 120 km, quanto mais energia você economizar, melhor.

4. Escolher os dias
O Tour é uma prova longa – doenças e exaustão irão, muito provavelmente, ocorrer em algum momento. Nenhum competidor consegue competir todos os dias sem fadiga, e a melhor estratégia parece ser escolher os dias em que você deseja pontuar bem. Nos outros dias, ainda assim é necessário pedalar bem (para manter um bom tempo total) mas você não precisa se manter a 90% para ganhar uma hora e manter-se bem. Em alguns dias, é uma questão de sobreviver – conseguir pedalar até o próximo destino.

Jethro, um dos ciclistas mais fortes esse ano, escolhe seus dias – em dias com muitas subidas, nais quais ele é muito veloz, ele pedala duro e elimina a concorrência. Nos outros, ele pedala um pouco mais tranquilo e se recupera. No que se refere a consistência, Rod e Juliana são sempre velozes e, em algumas etapas, são tao rápidos quanto os ciclistas mais fortes. Eles pedalam em uma cadência que consideram confortável, e o resultado é que ele conseguem manter seu ritmo, dia após dia.

5. Saber escolher seu equipamento
Falhas mecânicas podem ser evitadas, facilmente, pela escolha correta de equipamentos e um pequeno estoque de peças de reposição. Um dos ciclistas mais fortes que está aqui foi muito prejudicado por furos por causa de sua insistência em pedalar com pneus extremamente finos, mesmo nas etapas com os piores terrenos.

Conheça seus pontos fracos. Se você não é tao bom na terra, escolha uma bike que torne as pedaladas na terra mais fáceis. Peças intercambiáveis também ajudam muito - um canote Thudebuster para as seções de terra e outro rígido para as asfaltadas. Se possível, traga um garfo de suspensão – você não vai se arrepender. A maioria dos participantes está em bikes de cyclocross, ou pelo menos com guidãos estilo drop – traga manetes de freio de guidão reto, que podem ser instalados na parte mais alta do guidão, além das manetes próprias para drop. Traga pneus mais largos para os trechos de terra, eles te darão mais confiança, o que te ajudará a andar mais rápido.

6. Pedalar com segurança
Acidentes podem acabar mal, resultando em dias perdidos (e tempos de 12 horas) ou até mesmo em ter que deixar o Tour. Quando competindo, é fácil empolgar-se e correr riscos desnecessários. Fui extremamente sortudo quando me acidentei, e não precisei ficar parado, mas muitos outros competidores não tiveram a mesma sorte.

7. Sair tarde
Uma das táticas favoritas entre os competidores é a de sair (em grupo) do acampamento um pouco mais tarde . Em grupo, é mais fácil manter um ritmo mais forte e alcançar os competidores mais lentos – quando você alcança alguém que saiu antes, você praticamente os vence. Se você sai mais cedo e consegue manter um ritmo bom, você pode não ser alcançado, mas são grandes as chances de que te alcancem.

8.Não adoecer
Falar é fácil, mas doenças irão aumentar bastante seu tempo e tornar muito mais difícil terminar as etapas. Problemas de estômago podem acabar com seu apetite, e não conseguir comer bem é a receita do desastre. Além disso, ter que parar a todo momento por causa de uma diarreia torna bem mais difícil manter a competitividade. Praticamente todos os competidores adoeceram em algum momento.
 
Já que existe a opção, provavelmente eu escolheria não competir se me inscrevesse no Tour novamente. Apesar da corrida estar sendo divertida, e se eu terminar vou poder dizer que completei a mais longa prova de ciclismo do mundo, não sou um ciclista competitivo o suficiente para fazer valer a pena todo o sacrifício. Vou tentar tirar mais fotografias nas próximas (as últimas) 5 semanas, mas vou tentar manter minha 10ª posição no ranking. Dito isso, a competição, assim como o status de EFI (para quem pedalou cada centímetro da prova), é uma enorme motivação nas etapas mais difíceis.

Se você pensa que pode vencer essa corrida, ou mesmo uma das seções, inscreva-se para competir. Se você está mais interessado em experienciar o continente africano, então é melhor se inscrever como um cicloturista na expedição e, quem sabe, competir em determinadas seções – isso não significa que você irá pedalar devagar ou que será fácil (acredite), significa simplesmente que você não estará sempre com tanta pressa.

Escrito por Sunil Shah, competidor britânico no Tour d'Afrique 2010, em 11 de abril de 2010 (em seu blog www.geekonabicycle.co.uk).
Tradução livre

This year, we were fortunate enough to have the help of a local Tanzanian cyclist help us do some scouting on a potential new route further west in Tanzania.

His name is Elvis, and here is a post he recently wrote on his blog...

I met with Michael Coo, the Tour d'Afrique office representer from Ontario Canada in the evening of march 14th at Maasai camp. He introduced to me our driver Eddy a.k.a trust the guide. In the next morning we left Arusha driving towards west of town for our new route scouting, before the sun sink to the west we set up our bush camp on the hills of Mbulu highlands. Next day we drove to Singida town, visit market, hotel which could be used and so on. We continue with our driving few stop for marking point on GPS for place such Cake stops, Chai stops, bush camp and much more. In the evening we set up our bush camp on the calm and tranquilly miombo woodlands of Rungwa game reserve. Made our dinner followed by cup of coffee then each hide in the tents listen for monotonous calling before interrupted by rain. We left our lovely bush camp in the morning driving to Mbeya stopped on the way for lunch of Maandazi (sort of donate or fat cake as people of southern Africa called them). The day highlight was driving through highest point of tare roads in Tanzania interns of elevation. In this Mbeya Range the road went up to 25000m.a.s.l, I'm worry next year TDA riders will fly on the descend to Mbeya town.

We left Mbeya and drove to Iringa where Eddy our fun friend ever dropped us, from Iringa we board bus which my colleague Mike called "Chicken Bus" to Dodoma town. Here we met the historical continental tour, TDA riders and Staffs.

I spent six days with tour frankly to say dream come true, I anticipated to work with this amazing company on their wonderful cross Africa bicycle race and expedition. I cycled and help with different task as well all these enrich and enlighten me with different operation tasks.

Thanks to all TDA staffs for their generosity and unmeasurable kindness towards me during my short train with the tour.

Elvis' blog can be found at: http://cyclingaroundafrica.blogspot.com

Riding along a rocky, remote dirt "road" in Tanzania this afternoon I suddenly grasped the relevance of the old adage to "keep one's friends close and one's enemies closer."  From the windswept sand of Egypt to the lush savannah of Tanzania riders on the Tour d'Afrique have encountered and battled various "enemies" along the way. For Dutch Marcel, the enemy has been his thirty plus flat tires; for Canadian Jenn, the enemy has been a potent and recurring stomach bug; for American Adam, the enemy has been finding a decent haircut in Africa. For me, my most formidable African nemesis has been...THE DIRT.

Like a few other riders on the Tour I came to Africa with a road and triathlon background and have very little experience riding the rough stuff.  I knew I would struggle on the Tour's gnarly and legendary offroad sections, but I hoped the dirt and I could at least be friends.  Our friendship got off to a rocky (so to speak) start on our first offroad day of the Tour in Southern Sudan.  As I stared at cracked lava rocks, rutted corrugation and deep sand, and the dirt stared back at my skinny tires and lack of front suspension, I realized that opposites do not attract.

Through Southern Sudan and sections of Northern Kenya I cursed my nemesis...the dirt.  The dirt threw me off my bike, drained my mental concentration and resulted in my longest and most tiring days.  I realized I would rather ride Ethiopia's hills or Botswana's big mileage on repeat than ride ten kilometers on dirt but nevertheless faced six straight days of dirt this week, enroute to Iringa, Tanzania.  My second day on the Tanzanian dirt took me over 11 hours to finish 99 kilometers and I rolled into camp exhausted, as the setting sun extinguished both the long day, and seemingly the endurance of my spirit.

Today, on a dirt path somewhere between Arusha and Dodoma, Tanzania, a small African miracle happened.  As my cyclocross bike and I jumped and swerved over potholes, thick gravel and rocky sand...I realized I was...smiling.  Was I actually having fun engaging with my enemy, the dirt? As we rode up, down and through some of the most beautifully remote and anonymous Tanzanian mountain passes, I realized that only dirt roads enable once in a lifetime encounters with curious local Maasai and breathtaking off the beaten track scenery.  This past week has truly shown us the heart of Africa.

As we have ridden through Northern Kenya and Tanzania we have seen paving machines preparing to annihilate the remnants of dirt roads probably before next year’s tour.  Normally a mortal blow to my enemy would indicate a victory but the extinction of dirt road in Africa makes me sad.  The Tour d’Afrique challenges riders in profound ways and I have felt both the greatest exhaustion and greatest sense of satisfaction crawling into my tent at night after a “dirt day.”  Pushing ourselves to the next level, overcoming difficulty and realizing that we are stronger than we think we are, are what this epic expedition is all about.



I must endure, hate and love three more days of dirt until our next rest day in Iringa.  I will be smiling the whole way, and associating my former nemesis the dirt with the Swahili word “rafiki,” which means friend.

by Erin Sprague, USA



photos of Tanzanian roads by Randy Pielsticker, 2008

Greetings from your African dirt correspondent, exactly a month on from our first taste of dirt in Sudan. I'm writing from a small settlement called Laisamis, 95 kilometres from a dusty town called Marsabit, en route to Nairobi.

As we left Ethiopia, the heavy rain that had plagued the tour eased up and we were generously treated to several days of dryness. The weather changes quickly though and at 4:30am on our rest day in Marsabit riders were busily putting their rain flies on their tents. The roads in Marsabit quickly turned to mushy mud and vehicles (including our own bucky, the 'Drama Queen') were getting stuck every few hundred metres. We've not had to ride over any serious mud so far on this tour so this was shaping up to be an interesting riding challenge.

There was no real rain overnight and as the riding week began, we were told of the muddy sections that awaited us on the road. After a pretty serious downhill, I settled down for a morning of gradual descent to lunch. Soon enough the first mud arrived, vehicle tracks were carved half a foot in and any clear cut path soon vanished.

Riding over the mud was slippery and I was very glad of my previously ill-thought out decision to use fairly skinny dirt tyres. The mud attaches to your wheels quickly and within minutes it's rubbing against the inner edges of your frame and fork and collecting on top of your brake callipers, making no sound but slowing you down noticeably.

For one of the early sections, there were a hardened section on the sides of the road which was much quicker to ride along. I was riding along merrily at somewhere between 15 and 20 kmph when I caught sight of a local. He shouted and pointed straight across the road to something just metres in front of me. Slamming on my brakes and almost vaulting over my handlebars, the object he was pointing to was immediately apparent - a deep and wide crack in the earth.

Saved from this possible end to my riding day, I continued on to lunch, passing through water logged section after water logged section. The clear rain water turns brown as soon as it touches the soil and the standing water covering the depressed sections of road leaves a layer of fine grit on your skin, clothes and bicycle as you pedal through it. Bicycles were creaking for much of the day as the water washed off lube.

Visible from lunch was another water logged section of road where a truck had got stuck in a seemingly deep pothole. The cab of the truck was arched at 20 degrees to the surface of the water and it seemed that it was submerged about a metre. Normally the puddles aren't that deep, or at the very least, their surface maintains the same consistency as the road immediate before and immediately after it. Another rider Jason was standing on the other side of the puddle scraping his shoes but I took little notice of this. Feeling confident at my ability to ride such puddles, I cycled straight into this puddle, picking a line that followed the ruts on the road leading to it.

The first small puddle was fine but less than two metres into the second puddle I felt my front wheel disappear into some mysterious underwater chasm and I actually went over my handlebars this time. Luckily there was no hard impact, unluckily I was now soaked from neck down. The crew and passengers of the stuck truck broke into laughter and Jason, who hadn't seen me cycle in, was shocked to see just my head floating above the water. We stood and watched as three more riders crossed, somehow picking a line where they stayed relatively dry. One of the TDA trucks tried the same and was wedged underwater within seconds.

The afternoon featured the much promised 'extreme corrugation' and arriving to camp was a timely relief. As riders came into camp, it was pleasant to see some of the chronic complainers extolling their enjoyment of the day.


Sunil Shah powers through the tough stuff!

-written by Sunil Shah

www.geekonabicycle.co.uk