Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
The next morning, I got up early and packed the bike. The Salesian Father asked
me if I wanted to eat breakfast…smile… which I gladly accepted. After a filling meal, I
handed him a couple of lapel pins and thanked him. He directed me to my road and after
a quick good-bye, I pushed off in heavy drizzle. I immediately noticed that the lushness of
the vegetation was growing thicker and it increasingly began to crowd the road the further
south I headed.
Kindness is Everywhere
One of the eeriest sounds a cyclist can hear is that of a spoke breaking. I immedi-
ately stopped, removed the spoke from the wheel to make sure that it would not puncture
the tube andthen continued. Ireached Medina Goundaandwasinvited byaman toget out
of the rain and rest on his veranda for shelter. He brought in food and I ate lunch with his
children. After our meal, I asked if it was OK if I stripped my bike to replace the missing
spoke. He said it wasn't a problem. So, with half the village watching me, I quickly re-
paired the wheel, trued it and repacked the bike. As the rain started to fall harder, I didn't
feel like continuing so I asked the man permission to set up my tent next to his home. He
laughed and said there was no need for I was welcomed to stay inside.
Abraham, my host, lived and worked in Paris. He would come to Senegal to visit
his family regularly and sent money to his parents monthly. On this trip, he brought back
a television- the first in his village. Instead of keeping it in his home for personal use, he
put it over the large patio of the village grocery store. Many villagers came in the evening
to watch the only television channel that was available. After dinner with his family, I was
readytosleep.Hesprayedtheroomwithabugkillerandbidme“ bonne nuit .”Ifellasleep
to the sound of the rain pelting the roof.
The Tough Roads
What an adventure September 18 th turned out to be. It was by far the most chal-
lenging cycling I have ever done. After leaving Abraham's home, I made my way to the
Guinean border. I soon left the tarred road and began on piste which was an earthen road.
It was well-graded and my pace was rather quick. Eventually, I came across a few small
puddles scattered along the road. No big deal, I thought (this was foreshadowing what was
about to come). Then these puddles became larger…OK I got the message. Within a short
distance, the road became a jungle of potholes and slippery mud! There were huge ruts (2
to 3 feet in depth) that were gauged out by trucks and other vehicles.
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