Ride time: Unknown, GPS died.
Probably the best that I have felt since before Nairobi. I slept really well over night. No caffeine, no night stomach cramps, a reasonably hard day and cooling rain at night meant that I sacked out and slept pretty solidly. I did wake up at 4am to the sound of pretty hard rain. This got me thinking about my tent, and the velcro straps that hold my fly (the outside, waterproof part of the tent) to the poles. I had thought that these were to make sure that the fly is positioned so that water won't pool then seep through. But. I figured that they would also hold the poles in position, and the tent up, if I unclipped the inner. That would mean that I could do a rain pull down without getting my non-waterproof inner wet at all.
When the 6am wake up time came around, I put my theory to the test. Sure enough, I could do an inner-first takedown. The only limitation (that I can see) is that you have to do it crouched in the tiny vestibule. And by tiny, I mean extremely tiny. Like, smaller than me tiny. Still, it is way better than a wet inner.
The actual riding today was also pretty good. We started with a 20km, all climb, dirt time trial. This was pretty awesome. All the rain overnight, and the sprinkling during the morning, had softened the dirt into a tacky mud. This made for some slow going and some hard breathing. I definitely pushed too hard, enjoying feeling good, and ran out of juice before the halfway mark. It was still a fun climb. The classic climb along a valley, winding in and out with the contours. Heavily forested hills with low hanging cloud and a winding road makes for a nice climb. Looking across and seeing the road that you've come up is always inspiring.
I was really surprised (in a good way) at the speed that some of the people went by me. Jason and Reuben both flew by. Those guys have been loving the dirt. Jason is a great high cadence rider, I think that served him well on the rocky, muddy climb. Reuben is a strange guy. Sometimes I can fly by him in the morning and not see him all day. Other times, like today, he can really be up there, pushing it out and outdoing me with ease. Those guys both did great in the time trial - and totally well deserved.
Because the end of the time trial marked the end of the stage and the section people were free to hang around. So we did. Ate a PVM bar. Drunk some water, scrapped some of the mud off my bike. Stuart had a boiled egg he had the forethought to bring from breakfast. We were all pretty happy to be at the end of another section and to have no more racing for a day and a half. Plus, delicious endorphins from pushing up a muddy hill in the rain. When the dinner truck went by, we all looked at the people riding the truck staring at us out the window. i was definitely happy to be on the outside (in the rain, covered in mud, with another fifty klicks to ride) looking in.
I really hope that I don't have a fall or mechanical that forces me on to the truck. So much of it comes down to luck. Some of the strongest riders have lost EFI because they got sick at the wrong time or crashed. What is more telling than EFI is how people act after losing it. Some people get back on their bike as soon as possible. Others fall into a habit of riding the truck.
Keeping EFI is such a strong motivator for me that it helps me stay on the bike on tough days. Without that motivator, I know that I would be tempted to get back on the truck again and again. I hope that I would be strong like some of the other guys and ride as much as possible, writing off the loss of EFI as bad, unavoidable luck.
It makes me wonder how much EFI means - how many riders would have been able to ride the whole tour if it hadn't been for that one day of bad luck. I know that Dindir National Park was a turning point for a lot of people. The day was so unexpectedly and uncharacteristically hard that losing EFI must have felt like being robbed. Every day up to that point had been so manageable with consistent riding. Then Dindir came along and was 140km of bad road, hot conditions and infuriating convoys. For the people that finished, it was elating. I was tired, physically shattered and worn out, but I'd finished the day and still had EFI. There were hugs, hand shaking and back slapping. People that had fallen, been swept kilometres from the finish or couldn't face the conditions with scant chance of success had nothing to boost their spirits. I can completely understand why some got straight on the truck the next day. But it makes me respect so very much the people that didn't finish the day, that didn't have that post-ride elation, but still got on their bikes the next day, and the day after that.
I think that a large part of how I view people that crack and get back on the truck is brought about by a fear that maybe, deep down, I'll turn out to be one of those people. Knowing that you've held something in such disdain makes it hard to do. It can cut both ways though.
Gisi finishing the climb in the second half of the day.
Stuart looking happy to have finished the climb.
The view from the top of the climb.
Dan's Camping Tip: Inside out tent taking down is awesome. And you can probably do it.
Dan's Camping Tip: Inside out tent taking down is awesome. And you can probably do it.
I really liked your insights into EFI status and how it affects you and the other riders.
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