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| Lilongwe - Lusaka |
Monday, April 12, 2010
The Tour d'Afrique - Not for the faint of heart! - Lilongwe to Lusaka
The Tour d’Afrique – Not for the faint of heart!
On January 16, 2010, 60 or more cyclists left Cairo for a 4-month, 12,000 km ride to Cape Town. These were the full tour riders.
The Tour is divided into 8 sections, bounded at each end by an International airport. Sectional riders can join any one or more of these sections without having to complete the whole Tour. On April 7, Jessica Lianne and I joined in when the Tour reached Lilongwe, Malawi. By now the riders had completed 7,500 kms.
They were lean, fit, conditioned and grizzled.
We were about to find out what other sectional riders before us had learned and written about when it came their turn to join, mid-stream, this relentless determined expedition – it’s tough.
In the 5 days it took us to get from Lilongwe, capital of Malawi to Lusaka, capital of Zambia, we covered a distance of 726 kms, with daily rides of 153, 197, 124, 148 and 104. the 148 km day included a 1900 metre climb!
The Tour was in full flight, and we hung on like kids having boarded a moving train! For the last three months, I’ve been reading all of their blogs. It was fun to recognize so many of the riders and to see them in action.
It’s a certainty – the Tour meets Harry’s first rule, “Break a sweat six times a week.” And then some!
The Tour d’Afrique is not for the faint of heart – especially when you're 70 years old!
On the first day across the Malawi border, I had to keep my heart rate at 150-155 just to keep up with Lianne and Jessica.
Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Barker, your daughters are doing very well - they are strong and fit. As we say in Zambian understatement - “they are fine.”
Early on, a Zambian man, wearing our new Okanagan Zambia Health Initiative biking jersey, was seen standing at the side of the road. Many Tour riders noticed him and recognized the jersey, with surprise.
As Lianne and Jessica approached, this total stranger greeted them; “Hello Lianne – Hello Jessica. Welcome to Zambia!”
For the first time in their lives, they were utterly speechless!
After a time for recovery, they asked, “Who is this stranger? How come he wears our jersey?”
As I rode up, Jim said; “Hello Bill. Nice to see you – again.”
Zambian Jim and I sat next to each other on the Amsterdam – Lusaka flight. When he told me that he lived in Chipata near the Malawi border – together, we arranged this prank for the girls.
For me, my riding on the second day was diverted to the care of one rider who had experienced a head-on collision with a local cyclist. He had suffered a midline full thickness laceration of his upper lip, the tear extending to the base of his nose. From one side, a 7 milli-meter tag of vermillion lip, de-vascularised, hung precariously by a thread. Both upper incisor teeth and one lower incisor had been knocked out. This was certainly a repair for a Plastic Surgeon. A phone call to Lusaka, 500 kms away, informed us that their only Plastic Surgeon was away on holiday.
The Italian Orthopaedic Hospital declined his care; “We don’t do that kind of thing here.”
The on-call General Surgeon at the University Teaching Hospital in Lusaka refused to accept him, “I don’t do that sort of stuff.”
A call to an American Trauma Surgeon, volunteering in Lusaka, was quite instructive, “Don’t bring him here. He will likely be sutured by an Emergency physician or a Clinical Officer.”
Well OK, then let’s get him to South Africa. A further phone call informed us that the earliest flight to Johannesburg would depart the next day, leaving at least a 36 hour interval from injury to potential repair – decidedly too long a wait.
And so it came to pass that my Plastic Surgery career was launched.
Armed with some 5-0 sutures and some local anaesthetic taken from the Tour’s medical kit box, the patient, Tour nurse Carolyn and I proceeded 4 kilometres down the road to a mission hospital run by Irish nuns where we found a Spartan but spotless operating theatre, and all the tools we needed.
We did a little operation - and we fixed him up!
At least I dodged most of the 197 km ride that day.
One day as we rode, Jomumba caught up to us from behind. His bicycle was old and squeaky, but his legs were like iron. He could easily out-distance us, despite our fancy bikes. We rode together for about 5 kilometres and we talked about life in his village of 75. He was on his way to the next village to attend his uncle’s funeral - just another day in the life of the average Zambian.
On another day, I struggled up a hill that thrice dwarfed the Commonage to Vernon by both distance and incline. I pushed my heart rate to 155 for as long as I could. Then I tried zigzagging back and forth the way that Alistair and Stan had taught me. Finally, as a last resort, I walked and pushed my bike. Behind me I could hear a vehicle labouring up the hill. I stopped and watched as a heavily overloaded Mercedes Benz truck inched its’ way up-hill. As the truck approached, the driver waved and smiled at me somewhat curiously. As he passed, emblazoned on the back read a slogan, “Life is a journey.”
As I stood in the heat of the African sun, my eyes blurred with sweat, I mused to myself, “How apt?”
Arriving in Lusaka, the Tour riders, Jessica, Lianne and I included, were grateful for the rest day ahead.
Dr. Chazya Sikambale and Dr. Andrew Silumesii joined us for dinner. They have come from Mongu in Western Province for the media event planned for April 12. It was a joy to see them. We really appreciate their support!
More later.
Bill
On January 16, 2010, 60 or more cyclists left Cairo for a 4-month, 12,000 km ride to Cape Town. These were the full tour riders.
The Tour is divided into 8 sections, bounded at each end by an International airport. Sectional riders can join any one or more of these sections without having to complete the whole Tour. On April 7, Jessica Lianne and I joined in when the Tour reached Lilongwe, Malawi. By now the riders had completed 7,500 kms.
They were lean, fit, conditioned and grizzled.
We were about to find out what other sectional riders before us had learned and written about when it came their turn to join, mid-stream, this relentless determined expedition – it’s tough.
In the 5 days it took us to get from Lilongwe, capital of Malawi to Lusaka, capital of Zambia, we covered a distance of 726 kms, with daily rides of 153, 197, 124, 148 and 104. the 148 km day included a 1900 metre climb!
The Tour was in full flight, and we hung on like kids having boarded a moving train! For the last three months, I’ve been reading all of their blogs. It was fun to recognize so many of the riders and to see them in action.
It’s a certainty – the Tour meets Harry’s first rule, “Break a sweat six times a week.” And then some!
The Tour d’Afrique is not for the faint of heart – especially when you're 70 years old!
On the first day across the Malawi border, I had to keep my heart rate at 150-155 just to keep up with Lianne and Jessica.
Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Barker, your daughters are doing very well - they are strong and fit. As we say in Zambian understatement - “they are fine.”
Early on, a Zambian man, wearing our new Okanagan Zambia Health Initiative biking jersey, was seen standing at the side of the road. Many Tour riders noticed him and recognized the jersey, with surprise.
As Lianne and Jessica approached, this total stranger greeted them; “Hello Lianne – Hello Jessica. Welcome to Zambia!”
For the first time in their lives, they were utterly speechless!
After a time for recovery, they asked, “Who is this stranger? How come he wears our jersey?”
As I rode up, Jim said; “Hello Bill. Nice to see you – again.”
Zambian Jim and I sat next to each other on the Amsterdam – Lusaka flight. When he told me that he lived in Chipata near the Malawi border – together, we arranged this prank for the girls.
For me, my riding on the second day was diverted to the care of one rider who had experienced a head-on collision with a local cyclist. He had suffered a midline full thickness laceration of his upper lip, the tear extending to the base of his nose. From one side, a 7 milli-meter tag of vermillion lip, de-vascularised, hung precariously by a thread. Both upper incisor teeth and one lower incisor had been knocked out. This was certainly a repair for a Plastic Surgeon. A phone call to Lusaka, 500 kms away, informed us that their only Plastic Surgeon was away on holiday.
The Italian Orthopaedic Hospital declined his care; “We don’t do that kind of thing here.”
The on-call General Surgeon at the University Teaching Hospital in Lusaka refused to accept him, “I don’t do that sort of stuff.”
A call to an American Trauma Surgeon, volunteering in Lusaka, was quite instructive, “Don’t bring him here. He will likely be sutured by an Emergency physician or a Clinical Officer.”
Well OK, then let’s get him to South Africa. A further phone call informed us that the earliest flight to Johannesburg would depart the next day, leaving at least a 36 hour interval from injury to potential repair – decidedly too long a wait.
And so it came to pass that my Plastic Surgery career was launched.
Armed with some 5-0 sutures and some local anaesthetic taken from the Tour’s medical kit box, the patient, Tour nurse Carolyn and I proceeded 4 kilometres down the road to a mission hospital run by Irish nuns where we found a Spartan but spotless operating theatre, and all the tools we needed.
We did a little operation - and we fixed him up!
At least I dodged most of the 197 km ride that day.
One day as we rode, Jomumba caught up to us from behind. His bicycle was old and squeaky, but his legs were like iron. He could easily out-distance us, despite our fancy bikes. We rode together for about 5 kilometres and we talked about life in his village of 75. He was on his way to the next village to attend his uncle’s funeral - just another day in the life of the average Zambian.
On another day, I struggled up a hill that thrice dwarfed the Commonage to Vernon by both distance and incline. I pushed my heart rate to 155 for as long as I could. Then I tried zigzagging back and forth the way that Alistair and Stan had taught me. Finally, as a last resort, I walked and pushed my bike. Behind me I could hear a vehicle labouring up the hill. I stopped and watched as a heavily overloaded Mercedes Benz truck inched its’ way up-hill. As the truck approached, the driver waved and smiled at me somewhat curiously. As he passed, emblazoned on the back read a slogan, “Life is a journey.”
As I stood in the heat of the African sun, my eyes blurred with sweat, I mused to myself, “How apt?”
Arriving in Lusaka, the Tour riders, Jessica, Lianne and I included, were grateful for the rest day ahead.
Dr. Chazya Sikambale and Dr. Andrew Silumesii joined us for dinner. They have come from Mongu in Western Province for the media event planned for April 12. It was a joy to see them. We really appreciate their support!
More later.
Bill
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