The Third World as seen from the saddle

Had I been a bear in a previous life, I’m guessing I was constipated. Fast forward to my present life and I still can’t crap in the woods. Cue in a very big alas because in just 10 days, I’m off to ride through the woods for 37 days. I think more likely in that previous life, my bottom was affixed to a pampered person. Already it is yearning for the porcelain we are not going to enjoy for weeks.

The start of our Old Legs Tour has been months away for months, like we’ve been stuck on pause, but now all of a sudden someone has hit the fast forward button and July 5th is rushing towards us like a runaway freight train, just bigger, and more scary, like 3288 kilometres bigger.

I am woefully underdone in terms of fitness, mostly because of distractions, like time spent assembling my ‘Things I Will Miss Most’ list, for instance. I’ve got porcelain toilet bowls on top, very closely followed by my grandchildren, and my dog. Sorry for that, Jocelyn, Cailyn, Colton and Wallace.

Our house is absolute bedlam, more like a staging post than a home. Jenny and Stu Chapman have been flat out packing boxes to take with and for our Seapride resupply runs. You can’t move without tripping over boxes of lentils and chickpeas, crates of cokes, car fridges and camping kit, and 200 packets of jelly babies. Thanks to Arenel, panic averted on the jelly baby front. After last week’s blog, Arenel Sweets and Biscuits in Bulawayo have come to my rescue with 200 packets, including they assure me, many black ones. Arenel make the best jelly babies in the world. Because I am a generous and good friend, I’m going to give Adam a packet, and Mark Wilson a packet, but not Dave, because he still owes me 147 packets from the Kilimanjaro and Cape Town Tours, plus interest. Thankfully being vegan, Carl doesn’t eat jelly babies.

We had our final training session this last weekend with a long, hard ride on the Saturday morning followed by a camp out in the bush on the Selby farm. We rode our nemesis Blackfordby loop road, 108 km of soft sand and hard corrugations. Because my bike was still out of action, courtesy of dodgy freewheel hub complete with missing pawls broken on the same road, I had to borrow a bike. I had a choice of 2 bikes, Carl’s spare Scott, or Mark Wilson’s spare Titan, slightly on the heavy side and with oversized, almost Fat Boy tyres. Because Carl said the Fat Boy tyres would give me an unfair advantage over the sand and corrugations, and because I bust ribs on Carl’s Scott not too long ago, I went with the Titan.

Alas, I laboured and lumbered at the back of the peloton all morning, staring down at my Fat Boy tyres while sucking in air like a catfish in a dry Gokwe riverbed, waiting for my unfair advantage to kick in, but it didn’t.  In 108 km and 5 hours and a lot of minutes, the unfair advantage never showed up once, and I remained stone bone last throughout, and now think Carl Wilson to be a false prophet.

The Blackfordby loop is a good, hard training ride, perfect preparation what we will have in front of us for the next 5 weeks. Thankfully it rained a bit, so we were able to also practice being cold and miserable on the bikes, which will stand us in good stead for when we get to Chimanimani. We’ve already got hot and miserable on a bike down to pat.

Mostly though, we wanted to practice setting up camp, and then breaking it down again the next morning, to see if we could squeeze our mountain of kit into our two splendid Isuzu D-Max double cabs, courtesy of our sponsors Auto World, plus one camping trailer. Personally, I had doubts, especially when Stu Chapman pitched up with a cooler box slightly bigger than the Isuzu he was hoping to fit it in.

We got to practice lots of other things. Adam practiced buggering up his carbon footprint so we could sit around a roaring log fire whilst practicing Dick of the Day nominations. There were 3 Dick of the Day nominations. First, Dave Whitehead for trailblazing on the training ride. Dave said he went out front to bravely check for swollen rivers, but in actual fact he was just riding faster than the rest of us. Stu was up second for his ridiculously oversized cooler box big enough to carry icebergs in, and lastly Carl, for being bald, and for making sensible suggestions. Everyone, apart from me, ganged up on Carl and he is our first Dick of the Day of the 2020 Old Legs Tour. I was strategic in my voting and never voted for Carl, or Dave, or Stu, because I’m going to forge alliances with all of them, and also with Adam, Jenny, Vicky, Mark and Gary, especially Jenny and Vicky who have threatened half-portions for any nominations.

Because Reinier lost the Dick of the Day necklace on the Kilimanjaro Tour, we have to find alternative laurels for the worthy winner a.k.a. Carl to wear as DOD penance. Because Black Lives Matter, we issued him with an Afro wig to wear. But because he was sort of educated at Vainona, instead of sticking it on his head, Carl stuck it down the front of his pants, and now I need a new wig.

We also practiced belly laughing around the fire whilst drinking port. Our grandchildren practiced their sugar highs after roasting marshmallows on the fire, especially Vicky Bowen’s Benji and Struan. Belly laughing and drinking port around a fire with best friends while happy kids run amok, it doesn’t get better than that.

In amongst the port and the laughter, we discussed how we would ride as a group through the wildlife areas like Mana Pools, Hwange, Matusadona and Gonarezhou. Carl will be the ride captain on the road, and he’ll keep us bunched tight in the wilderness areas with vehicles tucked in close front and back, with a Professional Guide on board, lest we bump into lions and elephants. We’ve also decided to remove the canopy on one of the Isuzu twin-cabs, so we can leap on in a hurry if need be. And we’ll also have our trusty fog horns as the first line of defence. I must admit to shock and horror when Carl told us we have to get foghorns on our bikes to scare off carnivores and elephants should we bump into them in the bush. Carl says the foghorns will also come in handy should we bump into icebergs, like in Stu’s cold box for instance. Not that I doubt Carl, but I asked my man at Google if foghorns scare lions or attract them. The man at Google knew all about bears. If we bumped into bears, our foghorns would see them off no problem, but he was less sure about lions. So, I’ve decided on an additional defence strategy. Based on the premise that most animals would sooner avoid meat tainted with faeces for breakfast or lunch, I’m going to shit my pants first up every morning in the wildlife areas before getting on my bike.

Our target when we pedal off from Mt Nyangani on 6th July is to get to the top of Gonarezhou in time to join the Blue Cross, Zimbabwe’s most iconic endurance event, 500 km from Zimbabwe’s lowest point to Mt Nyangani. Never let it be said that the Blue Cross is no longer a competitive event. This year the Old Legs Team will be going head to head with Stu Chalmers for the coveted Most Organized Camper award. To give the contest extra spice, Stu has put up 50 bucks US for a charity as first prize.

6 weeks ago, Stu Chalmers fell off his motorbike and broke his leg just above the ankle, casting doubt on his participation in both the Blue Cross and the Organized Camper contest. I was very bleak at the news because I had big money on Stu to win.

But Stu has hired a body double who he calls the Stig to ride some of the Blue Cross hills and mountains for him should his newly healed leg fail. I need to point out that Stu is very adept at falling off anything on two wheels and heals quickly. Having seen a photo of his body double’s legs, I think Stu’s Stig could be Arnold Schwarzenegger.

I also think Stu Chalmers hasn’t a chance in hell of winning the most Organized Camper award, because the Old Legs Team spent hours this weekend practicing reef knots and sheepshanks, although most of mine ended up as granny knots. And we are properly Glamping in style for the Lockdown Tour. We’re sleeping in Swags, an Australian all in one bed-roll  tent, we have a camping trailer complete with secret drawers that we couldn’t find, plus our secret weapon; a Goal Zero Yeti 1400 portable power station complete with lithium batteries and available from the Solution Centre to charge up cell phones, laptops, Garmins, fridges and even Gokwe if need be. The Yeti 1400 is now my favourite thing in the whole wide world, after porcelain, my wife, my grandchildren and Wallace.

As for the rest, Zimbabwe continues as clear as mud, because you can rig elections, but you can’t rig economies. Despite denials from the Generals the week before, we almost had another coup last week when the lower ranks in the army rejected pay packets as pathetic. On black market rates, soldiers were down to less than a US dollar a day.

In reaction to the almost coup, government quickly awarded the country’s quarter of million plus civil servants a knee jerk allowance of US $75 a month. Economist and RBZ advisor Eddie Cross described the allowance as crazy. As to how thrilled the civil servants will be when they finally receive their allowances is any one’s guess, but the smart money is on not so thrilled. They won’t get their allowances in cash notes because the government hasn’t got $20 million in cash. Instead the 75 bucks will be paid into US Dollar denominated Nostro accounts, essentially fictious numbers on a computer screen. In Zim dollars the allowances will be worth anywhere between 1875 Zim dollars at bank rate and 7500 on the black market. Although after yesterday, we are told that black-market rates are now a thing of the past. The Reserve Bank held their first foreign currency auction and sold off ten million in forex at an average rate of 57 to 1. Banks are less thrilled because they get to open a quarter of a million plus new zero bank fee bank accounts before the end of the month. It is all as clear as mud.

The civil servants pay increase has come in the nick of time. Would you believe that in the aftermath of the pay increase, government bumped up the price of the petrol we currently can’t buy by 255%, from $28 Zim a litre, now up to $72. ‘m guessing it won’t be long before our $45 loaves of bread cost $90.

Spare I thought for the poor domestic servants. Their government minimum wages were released last week. After increases, they must now be paid $900 Zim a month, a.k.a. 12 litres of petrol, a.k.a. 20 loaves of bread. Small wonder the Security Forces remain on high alert, guarding against themselves and domestic servants. And with all of that going on, Coronavirus hasn’t had a look in recently, although our death toll jumped from 4 to 6.

Elsewhere in the world, things also continue muddy. Thanks to George Floyd, English Rugby will now frown upon the singing of ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot’ by fans in the terraces forthwith. The anthem was first adopted by English Rugby in 1987, to celebrate Martin Ofiah, an England player of Nigerian descent, nicknamed ‘Chariots’ because of his blistering pace. Martin Chariots Ofiah was chuffed to have tens of thousands of fans sing his praises, but not anymore, because of George Floyd.

And in the US in Seattle’s Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone which George Floyd protesters have declared a ‘No Go Zone’ for police, another 3 black men were killed over the weekend. ‘Quick hide the statues of the world I thought because here we go again. But panic averted because it turns out the three black men were shot dead by another black man and Black Lives Matter only when they are taken by white policemen. Who still aren’t allowed into the Autonomous Zone to arrest the shooter. Like I said, all as clear as mud.

Thankfully there is some good news to report on. My new freewheel hub complete with pawls arrived yesterday, thanks to Rob Bristow for excellent service above and beyond, and is being fitted as I type. It is a bit late to try and catch up on my fitness levels, so I’ve decided I’ll do that on the Tour.

And in amongst all of the above, I have managed to finish the final edit on my next book Cape Town to Kilimanjaro to be launched on August 26th. Watch this space.

Photos- Legs belonging to Stu Chalmer’s body double a.k.a. the Stig, DOD Carl Wilson and his Afro, Chuck supervising Jen and Stu in the staging post that was formerly my dining room, Arenel Jelly Babies galore, warm Waverley Blankets, and on the road to Blackfordy, and Cape Town to Kilimanjaro – coming soon to a bookstore near you.