Tourletters from Dakar
Stories
from the novice cyclists after being home... by Kevin Crow
Its been a little over two months since our 'not so novice cyclist anymore thank you very much' and the rest of the bike-dreams troupe finished the
Paris-Dakar rally. Long enough for at least one individual (me) to have the chance to recover and reflect on the suffering.
But really, you cant know about the recovery till you do sports again. And interspersed between the rounds of golf and the boozing (one of my idiot roommates decided to spice up the house by adding a restaurant style 4-keg kegerator ... so my tolerance is back to a normal level again)
i've played some basketball, which ended after only 2 games due to the cramping in my legs (shoutout to dutch Hawaii on that one) and actually rode my bike.
So this bike ride (after the refit, you know, cuz it wasn't exactly in pristine condition after Dakar) … one of our family friends has become quite the cyclist. Same age and skill as the kiwi (minus the rage). And he decided to take me on a little trip through the rolling hills of North Carolina (liset would not have enjoyed the profile). We started out pretty fast for a 50km ride. But I am sure some of you understand that guys have egos that need testing (no snickering please from the female portion of the gallery). Unfortunately for me, I was found lacking.
As far as the excuses go :
Legs had no power on the hills … don't know why
Turns out I get nauseous when I eat the maxim power bars … could be psychosomatic
My dog ate my homework
New pedals added weight to the bike
The tune up caused the brakes to rub constantly (ok that one is a lie, I checked before the ride)
Anyway, it was a good ride. Turns out the roads are pretty sparse once you get out of the city and there are just a ton of good side roads. Larry the old guy (family friend) even warned me on a few occasions about rough spots, but compared to the pot-trenches in Africa these roads might has well have been fresh tar. I really didn't have any power going uphill though, the legs are still massively traumatized. I cant mentally comprehend the Tall One doing the Andes trail, waiting a month, and then cycling Paris-Dakar… much less being so damned good while doing it.
Did I mention I hated being slower?
As far as that three month adventure goes, controlled suffering not-withstanding, I really enjoyed the trip and the meeting of good people who happened to not be Americans… who knew there were any out there! On to the awards!
Most impressive oldie: Hetty Meurs (Kleine zus) unrelenting cyclist. Never stopped, at least when I was watching that is (I have my suspicions!)
Most improved cyclist: The Musketeers! couldn't have done it (minus 300 or so km) without those guys either
Most impressive cyclist: The Kiwi. The ability to cycle at such a high level every day is unbelievable. Through the cough and the sicknesses that we all suffered along the way he never stopped putting forth the effort to win.
Best climber: Bicycle Bob. Disgusting what that kid does on the heuvels
Best flats cyclist: The doctor. Disgusting what that kid does on false flats into the wind.
Most memorable stage: It was pretty close to a tie between the 179k brutality that wiped out british Hawaii
and had about 8 cyclists rolling in at dusk with the thundering rain ... and the
Tizi-n-Test stage. But the Tizi-n-Test won out for me because we started at the bottom of the mountain; had the Moroccan kid join us on the way up; rolled through such an impressive forest in between the peaks at the top of such a challenging climb; and finished it off with the top-of-the-world view of the downhill on the other side, not to mention the stars that night.
Top speed award: The Tall One … not only for having the fastest recorded speed on the trip but also for his retarded descent (70kph? Seriously?) on the Spanish downhill where the road had been removed for repaving (you know, the day where lunch was on top of a dam about 45km past the fork on the km listing).
But those awards were just for giggles. As cheesy as it may be, when I show the pictures of my trip to family and friends I cant stop myself from lauding the accomplishments and contributions of the people on this trip. Showing pictures of the jan, the win, the vonks bazuins meurs etc and explaining the physical conditioning of you all to my like aged family produces nothing but shock and awe. Same as it does in me. The varied stories of your lives are equally as impressive, from retired surgeons flying to southeast asia to conduct medical missionary work; to boxers turned medic turned cooks; from a woman who used a 7200km cycle ride as her sign that she had fully recovered from a crippling climbing accident; the younguns traveling the rugby cup tour before embarking along the ivory coast with 2 bags and some malaria medication; lawyers, economists, computer experts; people who cycled through heat exhaustion and nausea repeatedly to finish every inch; to world hopping drivers and all the rest. Each story was fun to learn, relate and talk about with my homebody countrymen. Even though I perhaps could have done without the controlled suffering I had to endure to get the pictures and learn the stories.
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Finish Paris-Dakar by Bike 2007
An exhausted, but happy bunch of cyclists arrived healthy and safely in Dakar!!! After 10 weeks of cycling through wind, a few rain showers, and a lot of sun the peleton was welcomed warmly by family, friends and the rythm of African drums. The thirsty throats of the cyclists were quenched by Senegalese beer during the cocktail party at the finish line on the shores of Lac Rose.
The winners...
John Faulkner from New Zealand was physically and mentally the strongest rider after an exciting competition with youngster Bob Martens from the Netherlands. The "Kiwi" didn't win a yellow jersey, but he was dressed up in a traditional Mauritanian costume. The podium was completed by Christian Billet from France.
Mieke Arendsen from The Netherlands fighted her way to Dakar and finished first in the female competition. Mieke was dressed in a colourfull Senegalese dress and she was flanked by Elleke Leur at a second place and Liset Keursten at a third place.
It are not only the number one, two and three who are the winners of "Paris-Dakar by Bike". Fourteen cyclists managed to cycle the whole distance between the French and Senegalese capital without missing one of the 7.214 kilometers. Cycling the whole distance, yes or no, all of the cyclists proved to be determined to reach the finish in Dakar unless tough road conditions, uncertain weather conditions and sickness. All of them : Congratulations with their great efforts. Chapeau !!!
The race...
Christian Billet from France had an excellent start in his home country and took solo the lead during the second stage. The 18 year young Dutchman Bob Martens was the fastest in the European hills and mountains and was at the top of the ranking for more than five weeks. John Faulkner from New Zealand was never far behind and took the lead in Marrakech after a physical breakdown of Martens. However it was only for short, Martens recovered and stroke
back. Finally it was John Faulkner who proved to be the strongest endurance athlete in the Western Sahara and Mauritania, mentally as well as physically. He took the lead and he could keep it till the finish in Dakar.
More than a race...
Paris-Dakar by Bike is more than just a race. The majority of the riders do not compete. They cycle by themselves or together at their own pace and enjoy the scenery and culture of the European and African continent. It is for them an adventurous cyling tour they will never forget. It was much more than just cycling. It was fun, lots of laughs, many new friendships and yes, sometimes a few tears. Lots of beautiful pictures have been taken along the route and the participants leave Dakar with heaps of stories, anecdotes and sweet memories. You can read some of the stories in the letters at the website.
The riders ranged in the age from 18 ( flying young Bob ) to 76 years ( amazing Spanish Joan ). 67 year old Wim Graafmans and 58 years old Hannie Bazuin managed to cycle every kilometer and proved again that the tour is doable for a wide range of active people.
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By Jordan Heitz
Ten
weeks ago we all met in
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By Jeff Orum
The trip is now over, and it appears that everyone has survived the journey. About a dozen folks managed to ride the entire trip (EFI!) and John the Kiwi proved that experience can win over youth. My last report was still done in Morocco, so I wanted to recap the reaming stages to Dakar.
Our last full day in Morocco was Stage 49. This was perhaps the loneliest day we had done are there was nothing, save for a small village at 127 kilometers (Cokes available!) the entire day. We ran into a couple heading south that were fully loaded (we had also seen them the day we rode into Dakhla) and another chap heading north, riding by himself. Now that is hardcore!
We finally reached the border on Stage 50. The road in Mauritania is better than Morocco as it is only two years old, but there is a 5 kilometer stretch between the two border points that is very rough and unpaved that most of us walked. The temperature seemed to go up dramatically as we crossed the border and we had some nasty, hot headwinds going to camp. Fortunately the camp had a well and we could all take a nice shower (much better than the one water bottle we are limited to at most bush camps). We were also next to the only rail line in the country and they run some of the longest trains in the world - over 1 and 1/2 miles long. These go to and from a mine in the eastern part of the country.
Stages 51 and 52 were spent cycling along the quite flat and desolate desert landscape. Mauritania is a very poor country so there are no towns along the way, just villages (mostly a few shacks) and you can sometimes find a warm Coke.
Stage 53 brought us to the capital city of Nouakchott. However, before we got there we had to contend a vicious sidewind with lots of blowing sand that reduced visibility and covered us in sand. Nouakchott is not the prettiest town I have ever been in (to put it mildly), but at least our camp was a bit out of town on the beach where the Sahara meets the sea. I did wander through the fishing port which had some brilliantly painted boats, and had a nice lunch in town on the rest day.
We left town at the start of Stage 54 and rode through what must be one of the largest garbage dumps I have ever seen. Fortunately the terrain once we got out of town was no longer the stark desert we had been riding through for the last couple of weeks, but turned more savanna like with some (dried) grass and many trees. It was a welcome change. There were also many more animals (goats, camels, burros). We had our second meal of camel on the trip, this time it was ground camel meat in a curry.
Stage 55 was a bit of a challenge as the road surface was quite rough. It brought us to the border town of Rosso, which has a reputation for being one of the most corrupt crossings in Africa. Because of this, we took our one long dirt road of the trip which ran along the top of a dike to another, supposedly more friendly, border crossing. It was ride able (but slow) on a road bike. Hordes of children, shouting "presents" in French, surrounded us as we rode out of Rosso. I managed to get through them without any problem, but some folks had their jackets stolen of their bikes by the unruly kids. We then rode about 30 kilometers on the dirt road and then camped. Last year they had dinner at the normal time and it started getting dark so they switched on the light on the truck. Immediately huge swarms of mosquitoes arrived (of course there is water if there is a dike). So, this year dinner was early and we were in our tents by 6. There were no mosquitoes out at this time, but by 7 you could hear the buzz of many, many of them.
We got to our last border crossing on Stage 56. In the morning we continued for another almost 60 kilometers on the dirt and this brought us to the border crossing into Senegal. We got through the border with just a little bit of hassle and were now in our final country and back on pavement. We rode into St. Louis, first crossing a bridge designed by Eiffel onto the center island and then continued over another bridge to the spit. Riding along the spit we passed the rather smelly fisherman's area and eventually came to our campground which was mostly out of town and had a very nice beach. Since I had not had a hotel room for several weeks, I wanted one for our rest day and found a very nice room at the hotel next to our campground. It had a swimming pool, nice restaurant, and good beach access. Unfortunately water was out along the entire spit so no shower, but it did come on later that evening.
On the rest day I took a taxi back into town with others (we had to push the cab when his motor died to get the engine going again). The town itself is supposed to be a good example of a colonial city, and there were many French style building on the center island, but most of them were in quite a neglected state.
Stage 57 and 58 were both nice easy "end of the trip" rides through the Senegal country side. This brought us to the nicest beach we had on the trip. It was the only place that I went swimming in the Atlantic and as a special treat our wonderful cook Rudy roasted 2 wild pigs on the beach for dinner. It was quite tasty.
On Stage 59, our final day of riding, we rode as a group after lunch. Last year they rode all the way into downtown Dakar and the roads were not good (lots of potholes) and traffic was quite bad. So, this year the trip ended about 25 kilometers north of Dakar at Lake Rose. This is actually where the Paris-Dakar road race finished as well, so it seemed an appropriate place to end our journey.
We had a celebratory party and the top 3 finishers by overall time got awards. Aside from the two time trials, I didn't really participate in the racing aspect of the trip, but I ended up just out of the podium placings in fourth place (and the top American placing). I guess that shows that with daily consistent riding you can still do pretty well. Mostly it was a battle for first and second place with the John, the Kiwi, beating out the 18 year old Dutchman Bob by an overall time of 4 hours and 40 minutes. After that the rest were over 30 hours back.
According to my figures, I rode over 4,500 miles on this trip with over 200,000 feet of climbing (most of that was in the first 7 weeks as the last 3 weeks were almost completely flat).
Our accommodations at the end was at a fairly nice place (we had rooms in their huts) but it was a bit remote with no Internet and little phone access. Many of the riders had flights home the day after, but my carrier did not have flights every day, so I had to wait 2 days before heading home (as did several others). Most of the flights were around 3 to 4 AM (!) so that connecting flights in Europe could be made.
I did not take any trips into Dakar itself as I had pretty much had my fill of African cities, and reports from those that did visit did not sound very encouraging. So, on Monday evening, 10 of us took the almost 2 hour drive (that covered less than 20 miles - bad roads and lots of traffic) to the airport and spent several hours there waiting for our early morning flights. The Dakar airport is small, but it did have a decent 24 hour restaurant that had air conditioning we could wait in. I think we all made our various flights, and I got to San Francisco Tuesday
afternoon.