3-2-14
Ahh the adventure of uncomfortable moments… After getting
into Mbala after catching a ride from Kasama without any issues I tried to resupply
my wallet via the local ATMs, however none of them would accept any of my cards
so a little frustrated we departed the town; though not before swinging by to
see a couple of Nick’s friends Lazarus and Annock and having a quick beer, that
was a bit more leisurely than intended, resulting in a dusky departure for the
start of our 20K bike ride to Nick’s village.
I’d say spirits were high while avoiding being clothes-lined by fences and navigating the dirt roads by failing light and we actively convinced ourselves and each other that this was the best course of action. Then the rains began, just a few small drops here and there, growing in to more of a misty fine rain. So as per Nick’s direction we pulled over and did our best to batten down the hatches and protect our stuff as best we could from the water, as Nick so accurately said “It can just open up at the drop of a hat here.” So after hopping back on our bikes and riding for a few more minutes, the rains acted just as Nick has predicted and really introduced me to the reason they call it the rainy season. Were we bothered, ha! Of course not, it was just part of the adventure after all, so we continued barreling on, now in total darkness, down a flooded and actively washing out, pot hole ridden dirt road with no moon or stars to guide our way with some laughter and physical exertion to keep us warm and spirits high. Packs and packages were lashed down and despite the conditions we were making pretty decent, time all things considered.
I’d say spirits were high while avoiding being clothes-lined by fences and navigating the dirt roads by failing light and we actively convinced ourselves and each other that this was the best course of action. Then the rains began, just a few small drops here and there, growing in to more of a misty fine rain. So as per Nick’s direction we pulled over and did our best to batten down the hatches and protect our stuff as best we could from the water, as Nick so accurately said “It can just open up at the drop of a hat here.” So after hopping back on our bikes and riding for a few more minutes, the rains acted just as Nick has predicted and really introduced me to the reason they call it the rainy season. Were we bothered, ha! Of course not, it was just part of the adventure after all, so we continued barreling on, now in total darkness, down a flooded and actively washing out, pot hole ridden dirt road with no moon or stars to guide our way with some laughter and physical exertion to keep us warm and spirits high. Packs and packages were lashed down and despite the conditions we were making pretty decent, time all things considered.
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| The culprit |
I distinctly remember on one fairly mellow spot the thought
of ‘Oh man all this mud cannot be good for the life of these chains’ popping in
to my head. That single though was all the encouragement my chain needed and
then there was a ping CRGHHHHH and my chain suddenly became a lot straighter.
So we stopped and regrouped at the nearest house with a family cooking up
dinner on their porch while the rains continued to fall. We busted out the bike
repair kit the Peace Corps had supplied Nick with, only to discover a fully disassembled
chain tool. Upon reassembly, we realized that one of the tool’s crucial parts
that punches out the pins of a bike chain was conveniently snapped off, but
that was just an opportunity for some extra Macgyver points, and so with a little teamwork
and creative engineering we muddled our way through the process of getting the
chain put back together. During this process I turned to Nick and said (half as
a warning and half as an excuse for the dicey workmanship on the chain)
something along the lines of the chain being pretty much toast and it would be
a miracle held through the rest of the ride. Regardless, we were unfazed as we
hopped back on our bikes to continue on with our mission. Two pedal strokes
later, snap zzzzzz and the chain was off again.
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| The drying process, luckily no harm was done. |
So we hopped back off and walked the bikes back to the house
and inspect the chain to find that the repaired link totally mangled. So we
returned once more to set up our make shift chain repair shop. After spending
some time fixing the chain once again, watching the family watch us and
admiring the stars that came out with the clearing of the storm; the chain was
fixed once again. This time before embarking into the darkness we reassessed
our situation and with my chain being as unreliable as the minibuses we has been
riding the past week, we decided another 15K of bad roads in the darkness to
Nick’s house wasn’t maybe the best bet. So with our tails between our legs we
began our retreat back to Mbala and the promise of food and a bed at Annock
& Laz’s house. After a half mile of pedaling along, cuhchunk and the chain
was 15 feet behind us lying in the mud for the third time. This time we
discovered that it had snapped in an entirely new spot. We walked, talked and
marveled at the constellations overhead for a good 40 minutes before coming to
the final downhill to our destination that I could coast down. We were warmly
received, despite our soaked, muddy and late arrival. We feasted on some chili
mac, spread out our stuff to dry and proceeded to crater into bed with the
intention of sorting everything out in the morning.
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| The dance floor at Laz & Annock's |
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| A few curious kids checking out the visitor. |
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| Setting off once more with a perfectly balanced load. |
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