I've been traveling for nearly two and a half months now, through Turkey and on to Cape Town, and I've been unable to write anything for nearly the entire time.
That changes now.
I got this crazy idea into my head to bike from Cape Town down to Cape Agulhas, the southernmost point of Africa, to turn north and east along the coast and through South Africa's Garden Route, up through the Mountain Kingdom of Lesotho, over the Drakensberg Mountains, and across the highveld to Zimbabwe.
I'm not entirely sure how this idea implanted itself in my brain, but it has firmly taken root, sprouted, and begun to branch out. I am now over 150 kilometers into a trip that will see me through over 2000km of Southern Africa. God willing.
I like to tell people I have no idea how I got to this point in my life, but if I really start to look back, I can see several narrative strands coming together, laying the prologue for what is sure to be a new chapter of my life.
I don't know exactly when all of this started. Maybe it was Jaime, between customers at Ronnie's, talking me through his tour through France. It's an arbitrary starting point, but it helps set the scene. Without encouragement, it would have been just the ghost of an idea, so maybe I should look towards James who, when I told him of my plan to travel north from Cape Town in search of work, said, "Oh ya, buy a bike and cycle through Africa." At the time, I thought it was insane. I think I even remember saying, "That is insane."
That should have been it right there. But then I met the four young Brits teaching English in Turkey. They told me a story of a girl cycling the entirety of Turkey, and beyond. They'd hosted her through a site called Warm Showers, which is a bit like couchsurfing for cyclists on tours. It seemed like a great idea, but it surely wouldn't ever apply to me.
Then I met the German cycling home from Israel. It seemed so cool what he was doing, and he didn't seem put out at all by the time or the distance.
I guess it all came together to pique my interest, and that seed that had been planted then germinated into this half-crazed romantic notion. But the more I researched it, the more possible it seemed to become. Maybe that's an illusion. Maybe it is just as crazy as it first appeared. There's only one way to find out, and that's by doing it.
From everything I've read, touring on a cycle, especially for a long period of time, is more an issue of will rather than physical fitness, experience, etc., so for me, this is a test of my willpower, much like Peace Corps was.
Hence, the new narrative chapter in my life. It just feels monumental in so many ways. Maybe it isn't. Maybe it's all just an illusion doomed to fail. There's only one way to know it, and that's to do it.
Just get on the bike.
If it is all about willpower, then yesterday was an important test of that determination; one that I passed, if only barely. I left Gordon's Bay with a headwind of over 40 km/hr against me, pushing me to a near standstill and forcing me to walk the bike up particularly steep hills. I never knew it was possible to have such a wind in your face for probably 90% of a 75k ride.
It's not like I was ever going the same direction, either. The wind just stayed with me, and I have to say, it nearly broke me. It's so frustrating to look down at the speedometer and realize that you could probably run faster than you are currently biking. To top it all off, near the end of the ride, I dropped the bike. I was so exhausted by that point that I wasn't sure I'd be able to pick it up again. The strain on my physical energy had depleted my mental energy, which again acted on any reserves that remained.
But in the end, I made it. Exhausted, nearly broken, I managed to get in to Hermanus, where I am now. I don't know if you'd call it grit, pride, or just bull-headed obstinacy, but I made it. It was an important test, and even if it hurt, I knew I just had to get back on top.
There's a lesson in there somewhere. I'll try to keep it with me for next time.
That changes now.
I got this crazy idea into my head to bike from Cape Town down to Cape Agulhas, the southernmost point of Africa, to turn north and east along the coast and through South Africa's Garden Route, up through the Mountain Kingdom of Lesotho, over the Drakensberg Mountains, and across the highveld to Zimbabwe.
I'm not entirely sure how this idea implanted itself in my brain, but it has firmly taken root, sprouted, and begun to branch out. I am now over 150 kilometers into a trip that will see me through over 2000km of Southern Africa. God willing.
I like to tell people I have no idea how I got to this point in my life, but if I really start to look back, I can see several narrative strands coming together, laying the prologue for what is sure to be a new chapter of my life.
I don't know exactly when all of this started. Maybe it was Jaime, between customers at Ronnie's, talking me through his tour through France. It's an arbitrary starting point, but it helps set the scene. Without encouragement, it would have been just the ghost of an idea, so maybe I should look towards James who, when I told him of my plan to travel north from Cape Town in search of work, said, "Oh ya, buy a bike and cycle through Africa." At the time, I thought it was insane. I think I even remember saying, "That is insane."
That should have been it right there. But then I met the four young Brits teaching English in Turkey. They told me a story of a girl cycling the entirety of Turkey, and beyond. They'd hosted her through a site called Warm Showers, which is a bit like couchsurfing for cyclists on tours. It seemed like a great idea, but it surely wouldn't ever apply to me.
Then I met the German cycling home from Israel. It seemed so cool what he was doing, and he didn't seem put out at all by the time or the distance.
I guess it all came together to pique my interest, and that seed that had been planted then germinated into this half-crazed romantic notion. But the more I researched it, the more possible it seemed to become. Maybe that's an illusion. Maybe it is just as crazy as it first appeared. There's only one way to find out, and that's by doing it.
From everything I've read, touring on a cycle, especially for a long period of time, is more an issue of will rather than physical fitness, experience, etc., so for me, this is a test of my willpower, much like Peace Corps was.
Hence, the new narrative chapter in my life. It just feels monumental in so many ways. Maybe it isn't. Maybe it's all just an illusion doomed to fail. There's only one way to know it, and that's to do it.
Just get on the bike.
If it is all about willpower, then yesterday was an important test of that determination; one that I passed, if only barely. I left Gordon's Bay with a headwind of over 40 km/hr against me, pushing me to a near standstill and forcing me to walk the bike up particularly steep hills. I never knew it was possible to have such a wind in your face for probably 90% of a 75k ride.
It's not like I was ever going the same direction, either. The wind just stayed with me, and I have to say, it nearly broke me. It's so frustrating to look down at the speedometer and realize that you could probably run faster than you are currently biking. To top it all off, near the end of the ride, I dropped the bike. I was so exhausted by that point that I wasn't sure I'd be able to pick it up again. The strain on my physical energy had depleted my mental energy, which again acted on any reserves that remained.
But in the end, I made it. Exhausted, nearly broken, I managed to get in to Hermanus, where I am now. I don't know if you'd call it grit, pride, or just bull-headed obstinacy, but I made it. It was an important test, and even if it hurt, I knew I just had to get back on top.
There's a lesson in there somewhere. I'll try to keep it with me for next time.
2 comments:
Sterling, I think this is a great project! Very jealous - both of your adventure and of your fearlessness. Under normal circumstances instead of fearlessness I'd say I'm jealous of your balls - but those are probably miserable at this point, so I'm not jealous of them at all.
Keep posting.
I am slightly jealous that you get to see so much of my country in such an awesome way, well done to you and good luck. We are hoping that you will stop over at our place if you were planning to cross into Botswana before you crossed to Zim. contact us if you need any kind of help, we might know somebody around the places you will be...
mieke@legodimo.com
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