“They’ll stone ya when you’re trying to be so good They’ll stone ya, just like they said they would

They’ll stone ya when you’re trying to go home They’ll stone ya when you’re there all alone”

                                     -Rainy Day Woman #17 & #35

                                                - Bob Dylan    

I knew Dylan had travelled to Mozambique, but I never knew he’d travelled to Ethiopia as well. So the question remains; why do our cyclists get pummeled by rocks year after year?  

Yesterday I was waiting at the 125 km mark to set up a refreshment stop. The heat was sweltering. A young boy walked past me and climbed into some sort of woven bamboo bus stop. Envious of his shade I joined him. He sat there doing his homework before heading to school. I asked him a few questions about his studies and he rebutted with the standard: what is your name, nationality & “where you go?”. A mini-van which I mistook for our support vehicle was approaching. When I flagged it down I found it was full of Farengi, but not ours. They were a group of Polish tourists here trekking in the Simien Mountains. I was explaining the nature of our cycling expedition when suddenly the van was surrounded by a mob of insane locals. One of the passengers in the back had opened up the window and began handing out single Birr bills. They left shortly after I expressed my concerns. I had to move the refresh stop to get away from the mob.

  The tragedy is that there intentions are genuine but their methods are wrong. This is the cause for begging children. There is no longer famine here. Every inch of the countryside is cultivated, irrigated or designated grazing land. In years past I have seen children beat up older kids who steal the pencil or the Liberty Bell pin that one of the cyclists had given out. If people want to make a donation they should go directly to the headmaster of school or to a church to ensure that any gifts are distributed properly and throughout the community.

  The opposite side of the story is that throwing stones is learned behavior. People here use stones to herd livestock, discipline children or even just when playing games. Also most white people they see normally fly past in UN Land Cruisers. For our riders clad in multi-coloured spandex, helmets, gloves, glasses and cleats the children don’t understand us. We rank somewhere between superhero and alien.

            Today was my first full day of riding since Alfons Camp, where I had to get my leg sewn up. Now that the stitches are out I just need to get back in shape. Tomorrow is the Blue Nile Gorge, truly the Alpe d’Huez of this tour. It’s a 22km climb with an elevation gain of 1550m. And yes, it’s a time trial.

  Each participant of the Tour d'Afrique is here to conquer a personal challenge.  But their individual goals vary widely.  Some are here to be the fastest person to cycle the African continent.  Others ride each day on a photographic mission.  And some just want to experience and enjoy the diversity of cultures and geography.  Often as the tour progresses these goals change.
            What's different still, is when the tour is over, what each person will take away with them.  I'm not referring to souvenirs, but the lessons they learn about themselves and humanity in general.  The experiences on a tour of this magnitude will often alter the system of values that they carried with them to Cairo.  Not just by witnessing how Africans live, but by adjusting to the lifestyle that we maintain; riding your bike everyday not driving your car, learning to shower with a 750ml water bottle and for 120 days having all your worldly possessions in a small wooden locker.  I have recently had a personal experience that has made me rethink the material world.
            There are many challenges throughout this tour.  Some are physical and some are mental.  There are also some unforeseen hardships that amplify those daily challenges.  This is my fifth year to be involved with the Tour d'Afrique.  In these years I have lost my grandfather, I had to lead the group through the Alfons situation, and once again I was caught emotionally ill prepared.  When we crossed into the Sudan I found out that my family's cottage had burned to the ground.  This was not just my cottage, this was my home.  Anything and everything I've ever owned was kept there and now it was gone.  Now all my worldly possessions are truly contained a small wooden locker.  Upset as I have been, the lesson I have learned has nothing to do with materialism.
            Two weeks ago all the staff and participants, 61 people, were all complete strangers to each other.  But the friendships and bonds form quickly.  In past few days I have received hugs when I needed them, someone wrote me a poem and another gave me a gift, a simple token to begin again my collection random trinkets.  What impresses me is the quality of the human spirit, the willingness of the people here to help each other overcome even the most monumental of challenges.  And I realized that the support each rider receives comes not from the meals we cook, the directions we give, the mechanic, the medic or the trucks.  The best support comes from each other.     

Port Safaga, a bustling tourist destination for scuba divers.  We were camped on our own private beach. It was a peaceful sleep listening to waves of the Red Sea lapping on the shore, until 5 am when the minaret from the neighbouring mosque broadcast the daily prayers to Allah.

Stage 5 of the tour, there were nearly 20 cyclists gathered just 5 km from town for the official race start. The road climbed for the first 60 km through a barren desert canyon.    But the climb isn’t steep just long and steady. The scenery in the canyon is spectacular, very desolate other than the random Bedouin and their livestock. As the sun breached the jagged peaks surrounding us the temperature rose. At the summit of the ascent we found the lunch truck. The remainder of the day traversed the plateau, slaloming the mesas as we approach the Nile. In years past this has been the most challenging stage in Egypt due to the blistering headwind, but today we were graced with a tailwind, pushing everyone into camp.

I started the day with the Racers, but I was happy to let them go when I stopped to straighten a potato chip of a bike wheel from one of our local Egyptian cyclists. There was also a little road rash I had to help clean just 5 km from camp. Busy day. But it was my first complete stage of the tour so far, and since I haven’t really ridden since September, my legs have tingly feeling of satisfaction right now.

Tomorrow we arrive in Luxor, to stay with my old friend Mr. Reizieky. On the banks of the Nile, Luxor is the gateway to many Egyptian ruins and temples and it is our first rest day of the tour. Rest that is well deserved by all the clients and staff.

note - results for the first 4 stages of racing are now online. Check back regularly for the latest.

In Malawi they have a game called Bao. The board is often polished teak that is intricately engraved with Africa’s big five. The playing surface is thirty two small bowls carved into the wood. Two players move their seeds around the board and the objective is to obtain all the seeds. At the market in Lilongwe there was man with a sign that said “if you win Bao, I’ll give you a chicken”. But just down the street there’s an ATM where you can withdraw three million Kwacha. Although we don’t spend much time here the segregation of classes is obvious. I met two different men on two different days. Abraham Banga was eating lunch alone in Kusungu and so was I, so we decided to share a table and a conversation. He was 84 years old. I have met very few Africans who have lived to such a wise age. In the course of my chicken and chips I heard his whole life story. He spent his youth traveling southern Africa finding work in the hotel and restaurant industry. He returned home to Malawi, married a woman from his village and raised a family of eight. Now he is an Evangelist and travels the country from prison to prison bringing the word of God to those he feels need his help. He funds his work by selling cookbooks that he has made. It only has about fifteen recipes, hand written, which include French toast, banana fritters, and chocolate cake, all made from scratch. It was a very cool conversation until he asked me about my beliefs. I don’t like to discuss religion with locals. Although I don’t share his beliefs I have great respect for what his faith has done for him and I would hate to say something that could dissuade him. At the age of 84 his wife is no longer with him and only 3 of his children remain. He was lonely. The second man I met was fat. He was standing in front of me in the thirty person ATM queue, where I was about to draw three million kwacha. Concerned with having to fill all of the pockets of my shorts with cash I was watching the locals carefully to see where they put their money. But no one was taking out any money. I asked the man in front of me what everyone was doing. He said they all just line up to check their balance, which probably doesn’t change much. As we continued to talk I found out he was an agricultural chemist, working in the tobacco industry. I asked about the agricultural food crops that the people depend on. He said you can’t make a living as farmer unless you export your crop. He was a successful business man, paying for all three of his children’s university educations simultaneously; even his wife had left to pursue a Masters degree. A different situation, but he too was lonely. Malawi is one of the most impoverished countries we travel through on the Tour d’Afrique. A place victimized by the AIDS epidemic. If you look at their population’s age demographics, it’s a trough. There is no working class. In all the villages it’s mostly children and the elderly. The other day I decided to ride with the racers. I’m not sure why I do these things to myself. Usually I like to start the day easy and build up my speed. We weren’t far from the start when I was already wishing I had more gears. About 10 km in I was holding to Jos’s rear wheel. It was a subtle incline but I was cranking with everything I had. At which point he just sat up riding free hand. He took his jacket off, put it away and had a drink. His cadence never faltered, perfectly smooth. I let him go and just shook my head in disbelief. Each year I think this tour draws stronger and stronger athletes. Perhaps I’m just outta shape. Our first rest stop in Malawi was Chitimba Beach, a personal favorite, but that has nothing to do with the lakeside cabana bar. Things got a little festive on our first night as we devoured a giant pot of cane spirits and local fruits. And there have been many other great stops; Mabuya Camp, Chipata, South Luangwa Bridge. At this point of the tour countries start passing quickly. We are now in Zambia and it would appear that we have left the rains and the hills behind us. Nothing but sunshine, tailwinds and blacktop. Tomorrow we will arrive in the national capital of Lusaka and in less than a week we hit the adrenalin capital of Africa, Victoria Falls, “Mosi oa Tunya”, the smoke that thunders, where we will get to enjoy the might Zambezi by raft, tiger moth or bungee.

Wow! Now I know what it feels like to be a sectional rider. I have traversed Africa three times with the Tour D’Afrique, but it has always been from Cairo to Cape Town. I have never just jumped in at some point along the route. My greatest struggle is with the heat. I was camping just a few weeks back but it was in the snow, not in the humid sweltering heat of Tanzania. Not to mention that I haven’t ridden a bike in nearly five months. Everyone else is riding like a king and I’m employing every possible tactic just to prevent a saddle sore. Needless to say the body is gonna need some time to adjust to the new environment, lifestyle and daily routines. The road from Arusha to Iringa has historically posed numerous challenges, usually more so for the trucks than the riders. This year we have been lucky. The weather has cooperated. I remember crossing raging torrents, but this year they were dry river beds. I recall waking up after night full of rain only to find that the trucks had sunk up to the chassis in greasy mud. But this year the roads have been dry, none of the trucks have got stuck and cyclists only have to remove dust from their drive train each night instead of the cemented red muck. Ironically as I sit here typing in Iringa the rain is pelting off the tin roof like machine gun fire. But the dirt roads are behind us and rain on the tarmac as we continue south will only settle the dust and drop the temperature. Continuing south along the blacktop there are some incredible hill climbing stages as Tanzania draws to an end and we enter Malawi. So, how do you define the quintessential African experience; a safari through the Serengeti, summiting Mt. Kilimanjaro, rafting the Zambezi, or surfing the supertubes of J-Bay? For the less adventurous it may be teaching an English lesson in a rural schoolhouse, or chatting with the locals over a cup of chai in a remote village. In years past I have done all of these. But a few days ago I had an experience that supersedes anything I’ve seen before. Whenever I’m here I seek out traditional music. The faint rhythm of drums in the distance has led me on several detours well off the beaten path. The first day out of Dodoma I could here the tribal pounding of drums as we were establishing our bush camp. When things were set up, I approached the crowd of curious onlookers and said “ngoma si koapi?” (Where are the drums?). When the laughter subsided from the mzungu struggling with Swahili I was led by a group of children deep into the surrounding agricultural fields. After about 20 minutes we came across a group of laborers turning the soil. In the blistering heat men, women and children were using primitive hand made spades and hoes to prepare the ground for planting. On the side of the clearing there were two drummers pounding on animal skins stretched over old rusty oil cans. The workers would swing their tools in unison to the beat and the tempo was fast. When they saw me they put on a bit of a show, dancing a jig between strokes, cart wheeling, or throwing their shovel up into the air. They began to sing and everything intensified. I was amazed by their efficiency. In 15 minutes they had cleared a huge area, no machinery, no technology, not even an ox and plow. These people have knowledge of living off the land that the modern world has lost. I took my turn at both turning the soil and playing the drums which provided great entertainment for the locals, but neither were easy. Have these people been forgotten in time as the world evolved around them? Do these people envy the world of materialistic possessions? They are healthy. They are content. Perhaps the truth is that deep down inside I envy them for their simplicity. They work hard, but they are truly free. They maintain a subsistence lifestyle free from the pressures of image, greed and segregation that western world imposes.

Before the beginning of this year I had always looked at Kenya as one of Africa’s more prominent nations. Some of their benchmarks include free education, a thriving tourism industry and a stable economy. I hope that the present political instability will be resolved quickly and that the repercussions are minimal. I traveled through Kenya three times with the Tour d’Afrique. And it is truly one of the most memorable sections. It begins in the north at the border town of Moyale where we enter the Dida Galgalu desert. This is one of the most unique landscapes though which I’ve ever traveled. It’s a lava rock desert, barren and desolate, but somehow beautiful in its own respect. There is little change in topography; just lava rocks for as far as you can see. Even the road is made out of lava rocks. These are typically some of the most challenging stages of the entire tour. Neither the temperatures, winds nor road surface are working in favour of the cyclists. But what I’ve found is that is the most challenging days of the tour that our alumni still talk about not the easy days. The first rest stop is Marsabit. A town nestled into a dormant volcanic crater, but the elevation of the town permits dense and lush vegetation. The town has little to offer but sometimes rest days are spent just resting, but there is a national park where you can visit to see elephants and buffalo. As the tour continues towards Nairobi conditions get better. The road becomes paved and we ride right alongside the snowy peaks of Mt. Kenya. And in the town of Nanyuki we cross the Equator which tends to be cause for an annual celebration. Over the past 5 years TDA has developed many friendships and contacts in Kenya and we can only pray that the violence there does not affect them directly. Initial progress for the return of peace in the country has been made and we can only hope that things are resolved quickly.

Hey everyone, Sorry for being out of touch as of late but things here have been quite busy. I think the last time I sent an update was when we were approaching the halfway point of the tour. Right now we only have one month left to go. The group is swelling, we're up to nearly 70 people including staff and there are still more to come. Needless to say this tends to create some logistical challenges along the way. On some days this group will consume over 600L of water in a single day, not to mention their insatiable appetites. But my support staff have done an exceptional job this in dealing with all provisions. In hindsight I believe that the third month of this tour is the most difficult. In a previous update I mentioned that some people are strong physically and others mentally. This last month is when everyone needs to be mentally strong. Tanzania, Malawi and Zambia do not present the physical challenges that we face in the north. There are no open dessert crossings, roads made of lava rock or naked stone throwing children. But there are still mountains, dirt roads and long days. This has been an exceptionally wet year and many of those dirt roads were mud. There were days when the truck got stuck in campsites, roads were submerged by raging torrents of water that used to be passive streams. This region is also a high risk area for malaria and infections. Crossing the halfway point induces an inversion of mentality for the cyclists. They no longer count how many days they have been riding for, they start counting how many days are left. They start thinking about what they are going to do when they get home, they miss home. And even though the capital cities are as western as any city in North America or Europe we still have bush camps, water rations and porridge. The energy supplements that they have been consuming constantly over 70 riding stages are beginning to become less palatable. This is when the duration of the tour takes its toll and some of the cyclists struggle with the day to day monotony. Some of the cyclists have taken matters into their own hands and arranged special meals and awards ceremonies to keep the morale high. I must admit although I can see the frustration among them the group as a whole has overcome this challenging stage with greater success than any other year. I managed to take a bit of time off this year in Malawi as Shanny joined us for a few weeks. I scouted an alternate route that followed the shores of Lake Malawi rather than the plateau leading us to Lilongwe. It was a great trip. I was kick'in it on the beach for five days. The water in Nkata Bay was majestically clear, its one of the best freshwater scuba diving spots in the world. I did lots of swimming, some cliff jumping, sea kayaking and I even managed to catch a wave. Surfing without the salt is far superior. This new route may be anew addition for the 2007 tour. In fact several of the cyclists followed me as I cruised the lake. I rejoined the group to help facilitate the border crossing into Zambia and then tried to depart again for a canoe safari on the Luangwa River, but do to a minor emergency I was called back to duty, c'est la vie. Perhaps I'll get some time off when Henry arrives in Windhoek. There has been some incredible music that I've seen in several places over the last month. Of course when ever I hear drums in the distance I start to twitch and must go seek them out. I have a drum that is broken but still playable that I've been carrying since Egypt. So I always try to join in and learn something new. Several times its just been a bit of a jam session. But one of our last days in Tanzania there was the most incredible church choir serenading our bush camp through the darkness. I recruited several others and when we arrived at the scene we ended up dancing singing and drumming with the locals for a few hours. Their rythms, moves and vocal harmonies were magnificent. The strange part was that it was so dark I never saw a single persons face. When their rehersal was over they thanked us and walked us back to camp in the pitch black and still singing. In Malawi we had an amazing drum jam on the beach with a whole troop of locals around a bon fire. They had the most bizarre names like Easy Coconut, Cisco, Sweet Banana and Mel Gibson, but these boys could play. I don't know if my cracked dumbek will survive the rest of the tour but fortunately, the day we leave here we pass Felix “the maker” where I purchased one of my favorite drums “Mazabuka” two years ago. When we leave Lusaka tomorrow we will have three long days to get to Livingstone, the Adrenalin capital of Africa. This will also conclude the “Zambezi Zone” section of the tour, which only leave one left, “the Diamond Coast”, the home stretch. Although we have some long days in the last month the cyclists spirits will be high as we visit some incredible sites in Namibia and South Africa. Internets and ice cream become readily available as the conclusion of this epic journey draws near. But they may not realize until they hit the coast of the Atlantic that after we cross the finish line we will all set off in our own directions. As much as they may long for the finish now, when they reach they will realize that they wish it would never end. I hope all is well and we'll see ya'll sometime in June.

The section of this tour is named “Meltdown Madness”. I was never involved in the naming of each section and some of the names are obvious, but this one puzzles me. Perhaps it’s because of the temperatures. Or maybe it’s because of the geography, which is formed predominantly by volcanic activities. I don’t think so. I think it refers to the state of mind of our cyclists. To sign up for this tour you must be physically strong but to complete this section successfully, you must be mentally strong. The first few days out of Addis are not all that challenging. As we continue, everything gets more extreme. The hills get steeper and longer, the pavement gets worse, and as the number of people on the roads increases, so do the number of stones you get hit with. After five riding days we have a rest day in Yabello. There really isn’t much to see here. The town itself is not a tourist destination, it’s more like a truck stop. But rest here is necessary for the cyclists to recover before entering Kenya and this is the only place to rest for almost 1000km. It is truly a day of rest though. There is no internet, banks or restaurants for our participants to indulge in the comforts of home. But the Yabello hotel has made many improvements over the last few years. Now, they just need to work on the service at the restaurant. Continuing south, we have 2 days of riding to the Kenyan border. Enter Dida Galgalu! At this point there are no roads, no water, no campsites and no food. For three days all of our campsites were desert camps without facilities. Food supplies were scarce. Even in the two small towns over the 300km stretch there was not enough bread to feed our crew for one meal. This region has been experiencing a major drought for nearly 3 years and the wells here are even running dry. We had enough supplies to get everyone through, but everything was being rationed very carefully. I was surprised by the roads as well. Reading my past journal entries, I remember the roads into Marsabit being one of the most painful experiences of my life. Especially in 2004, when I was stupid enough to try to ride this tour on a rigid bike. The stage into Marsabit climbing the volcano was voted as the toughest stage of the tour last year, but this year cyclists didn’t seem to think it was so bad. I credit that to the orange and refreshment stop set 20km before town. Like Yabello, Marsabit is not much of a tourist destination, but there is a great market and the riders enjoyed their first experiences with Kenyan cultures. The roads leaving Marsabit to the south were far worse than anything I have ever seen in the north. Huge outcrops of underlying bedrock jutting out of the road and random loose boulders everywhere. Perhaps it’s because it’s the first time that I’ve driven this stage instead of riding. It’s much easier to find a good line on a bike. One night we camped in a school yard near Laisamis. We’ve stayed on this site for the last 3 years. This time I was invited to come and speak to the students. So I had an audience of 150 kids, all high school students. I talked about the tour for a bit and some of the cyclists participated as well. But then we opened the floor to questions and I was asked everything from “What kind of economic policy does Canada employ?” to “What sort of advice would you give to someone living with HIV?”. A very interesting evening and of course I ended it with a grand finale of drumming. The last few stages into Nairobi are some of my favorites. Beautiful Masaai people along the roads, incredible views of Mt. Kenya and some of the nicest campsites on the whole tour. A couple of days ago we crossed the equator, not only the halfway point of the planet but close to the halfway point of the tour. So we celebrated with a toga party and everyone looked great wrapped up their African fabrics. But it was a late night so needless to say the following stage was a non-race day. Now we are in Nairobi for another day of rest. We have several new members joining the tour here. We only have one more day of riding in Kenya and then we enter Tanzania where many of the participants will go on safari into the Serengeti and Ngorongoro Crater to see some of the most amazing wildlife of the planet. Nairobi is also the start for the third fourth section of our Tour – Snows of Kilimanjaro.

We have successfully crossed the Dida Galgalu Desert and are nearing the equator. Here is some news for future participants of Tour d'Afrique - those who are worried that the roads from North to South are slowly being paved and TdA will be an easy ride. This is far from the truth - due to rains the roads are now in worse condition than last year and have eroded so much that the speeds of even the top racers barely gets above 20 km/h on average. After leaving Isiolo this morning the Tour will arrive in Nanyuki and stay at the Sportsmans Arms Campground, their second “proper” campsite in a row. A welcome treat for the riders who have been roughing it in bush camps for most of their time in Kenya so far. After that its two days to Nairobi, but in the meantime, some of the riders have devised games and contest to keep themselves entertained. I heard rumors of a Toga Party, an Equator Party, and People's Choice Awards for the riders with certain unique qualities. The desert does strange things to people. Upon entering Nairobi by convoy or police escort, the riders will gather together for the first bike donation and press conference by the Tour d'Afrique Foundation on this years Tour. The two groups benefiting from this donation will be the National Council of Women of Kenya and Maji Mazuri – www.majimazuri.org.

Another busy rest day. We're in Addis Ababa right now. And most of the cyclists are enjoying the town. They've seen everything from the biggest Marketo in Africa to the Hot Springs. This town also offers any type of food you can imagine, so people have been indulging in pizzas, bacon double cheeseburgers, fine Italian pastas and wines, chocolate milkshakes and of course the all you can eat breakfast buffet at the Sheraton. This point marks the conclusion of the second stage of the tour. “The Gorge” has presented its typical challenges of lung burning climbs and mobs curious of locals. We did a time trial again this year up the Blue Nile Gorge. I was amazed by our winner. Addis, an Ethiopian rider, managed to climb the 22km of switchbacks and 1550m of elevation in 1hr 40min. Perhaps the fastest time ever, but I changed the route this year so that we didn't have to ride 66km before starting the descent. The most unusual thing about the last week was the weather. Last year I met Rita Marley in Debre Libanos but this year it snowed. Our hotel/campsite was at a high elevation and the rain storm that broke loose after dark turned to hail. The stones rattling off the tin roofs sounded like gunfire, the winds were gale force. From the bar I watched random headlamps of cyclists frantically running through the yard trying to batten down the hatches and collect their belongings. We have had several days of rain which is unusual for this time of year. If these rains persist as we head south, the Dida Galgalu (lava rock) desert could be toughest challenge of this years' tour. Now begins “Meltdown Madness”, the third section of the Tour from Addis Ababa to Nairobi.Another busy rest day. We're in Addis Ababa right now. And most of the cyclists are enjoying the town. They've seen everything from the biggest Marketo in Africa to the Hot Springs. This town also offers any type of food you can imagine, so people have been indulging in pizzas, bacon double cheeseburgers, fine Italian pastas and wines, chocolate milkshakes and of course the all you can eat breakfast buffet at the Sheraton. This point marks the conclusion of the second stage of the tour. “The Gorge” has presented its typical challenges of lung burning climbs and mobs curious of locals. We did a time trial again this year up the Blue Nile Gorge. I was amazed by our winner. Addis, an Ethiopian rider, managed to climb the 22km of switchbacks and 1550m of elevation in 1hr 40min. Perhaps the fastest time ever, but I changed the route this year so that we didn't have to ride 66km before starting the descent. The most unusual thing about the last week was the weather. Last year I met Rita Marley in Debre Libanos but this year it snowed. Our hotel/campsite was at a high elevation and the rain storm that broke loose after dark turned to hail. The stones rattling off the tin roofs sounded like gunfire, the winds were gale force. From the bar I watched random headlamps of cyclists frantically running through the yard trying to batten down the hatches and collect their belongings. We have had several days of rain which is unusual for this time of year. If these rains persist as we head south, the Dida Galgalu (lava rock) desert could be toughest challenge of this years' tour. Now begins “Meltdown Madness”, the third section of the Tour from Addis Ababa to Nairobi.