Kalahari pt 2

I don’t measure a man’s success by how high he climbs but how high he bounces when he hits bottom.

General George S. Patton

The clock is ticking

After a wonderful couple of days at the Kgalagadi Lodge in Van Zylsrus and despite the continuing pain in my arm and bruised ribs it was time to get moving, with only a week left on my South Africa visa I couldn’t delay any longer and had the desire once again to be alone in the desert.
Before leaving town I popped over to the school where I’d been asked to give a short talk to 500 kids from the township. The morning assembly was quite something, boy those kids have lungs, it was an interesting combination of faith hymns and some local chants. With a little mumbling I gave a 4 minute talk about having a dream and working hard to follow and achieve it, though I suspect only 10% could understand me (English is their 3rd language, and it was a Monday morning), but just maybe a couple of them will escape this dead end life of theirs where underage pregnancy, unemployment and alcoholism in the parents is the norm. Though I’m not a big fan of overbearing religion I suspect the sense of community and values that the church brings with it in this little town maybe a better role model than the parents.

Visiting Meerkat Manor

About 30 km’s from town I stopped into a farm to stock up on water. I was a little surprised to be met by a dozen young biologists instead of an Afrikaans farmer. It turns out I’d stumbled into the research centre and filming location for the Kalahari Meerkat project (Meerkat manor on National Geographic). I would of been really interested to find out more about these young people who give up a year of more of their life to live in a “Big Brother” house in the middle of the desert and study snack size furry things. But, by the time I’d filled up 4 litres of water I’d been asked the same 4 questions 5 times and felt a little overwhelmed, so made a quick exit. Bit of a wasted chance on my part but that’s life, an hour later I was lying in my hammock in silence in the middle of the Kalahari.

Desert routine

Now that I’ve been in and around this warm, dry and sandy part of the world for a couple of weeks I’ve got my routine fairly well organised. Because the shops in towns here are few and far between I carry about 6 days food with me plus pasta/rice for a day or 2 more which includes canned veg and dried fruits to make sure I get some vitamins. I’m carrying a minimum of 12 litres of water and up to 20 if I’m not sure if there are towns and farms ahead. I need about 8 litres a day for drinking, cooking and 0.5L for a shower in the evening (this is optional, the chance of meeting the woman of my dreams here is fairly slim, though not smelling like my brother is worth carrying an extra 0.5L per day ).
The day starts as early as I can get my lazy arse out of bed, ideally 4.15 which would give me 45minutes to pack up and have breakfast before so I can hit the road just before sunrise at 5am. But it usually becomes 4.45 I skip coffee, eat a handful of nuts for breakfast then hit the road at 5.15-5-30. At around 7am I have a quick break for a snack or sandwich and push on until around 9am, hoping to cover 30km+ by then (the roads have been bad).

30km has been quite a challenge the last days since Van Zylsrus, the gravel road is very rough with alot of deep sand and sandbanks. My left arm can only be used at about 80% and my ribs hurt like hell at bumps, so I found myself puffing and panting like an F16 pilot in a G simulator tensing my chest muscles for every bump and grabbing breaths in between. If I hit a sandbank or got surprised by how deep the sand was I was unable to fight through for balance so instead often just dropped the bike to save the pain in my ribs or arm. Though picking a 60kg+ bike up out the sand several times a day is a poor second choice.

Between 9-10am I look for somewhere to set up camp for the day, luckily so far I’ve almost always managed to find something where I could put my hammock up and use my tent footprint as a tarp to create extra shade, using my machete I clear out the undergrowth and area around my hammock making a comfy little home for a couple of hours.

By now its about 30-35 degrees in my shade and warmer ‘outdoors’. What follows is my favourite time of day. I cook up some sweet rice pudding with dried fruit for lunch. Relax, read and do any admin on my bike or gear that needs doing. Between 1-3 pm its so hot I just lie down and snooze and drink as much as possible, up to 40 degrees I can cope quite well with, above becomes quite unpleasant., and almost impossible to drink more than I sweat.
I’ve loved reading Ernest Shackleton’s book “South” for a little irony, now I feel like dragging a heavy sledge around somewhere cold….

At about 5pm I cook my evening meal(my pan still works despite it taking a beating during the crash last week), even though I’m not hungry at this time/temperature I force it down so that I don’t need to eat later. At 6.30pm its once again about 30 degrees so I head out and try to do another 15-20km before dark then camp for the night. If the road wasn’t so bad and my body so painful I’d carry on until about 10pm, but in my current state its just too painful to cycle in the dark where you don’t see half the obstacles. I then go to bed with a beautiful view of the stars through my mesh inner tent, the crickets, locusts and bugs playing a bedtime lullaby.

Amateurs talk tactics, professionals talk logistics

Cycling in the desert is more about discipline, logisticsand patience than fitness and tactics. Discipline to get up on time in the morning and to pack up in the afternoon after dinner despite feeling at home for 8 hours. Logistics to have enough food and water to sit it out longer if it remains too hot or like me have an injury stopping you from doing longer days (one day I quit after 12km because I couldn’t take the pain anymore). Patience to sit around all day melting at 35+ degrees and not start too early again in the afternoon. All of these save energy and save precious heavy water which mean I can live in relative luxury with 8L per day, whereas if I was my usual stay in bed till 7am and cycle all day self, I’d need 12L of drink water plus something for cooking/washing and be alot more tired, now it feels more like a holiday than hard work, my legs have never had it so easy.