Dave Conroy's Blog, page 4

All directions lead to greatness

All directions lead to greatness
Posted on: Monday, June 10th, 2013 at 10:23pm

I’ve covered all points of the compass here in Uganda, starting from the west, heading north, to central, before heading west, and finally on these last days – the south. True to peoples word who had been warning me for weeks – there are hills, ones that put some of the most challenging ones I faced in North America to shame. The one that stands out would be a 8 switchback steep climb up to a coincidental 2013 metres, followed by a screaming descent dropping down 450metres after that into the town of Kabale, quaint, but busy with tourists due to the fact that this is the start of where the last of the Silverback Gorillas live in this world. The $500 per day entry fee just to get into the parks steers me away from entering into this tracking activity, besides, I’ve had some pretty intimate encounters with primates in the past year anyways, so staring at a bunch of hairy creatures from a far doesn’t appealing in the slightest. I’m also starting to get really tired of hanging around with other travellers, they are great – and I’ve had great times and memories, but I think I need to revert to something that provides a bit more authenticity. I’m going to do my best to get more interaction with the locals, staying with them, as opposed to falling into the hostel trap, which seems to be getting more common for me. I’m leaving the country in less than 12 hours, and a whole new set of challenges is going to present itself – I’m leaving Anglophone Africa and venturing into the francophone areas, which is fine as I can fudge my way through a French conversation easily enough, but I actually have to think about what I’m saying, challenging road conditions, and well, just the chaos of it all. Am looking forward to it.

Coming South from Fort Portal was challenging in many ways – I’ve tweaked my knee, and constantly having to eat painkillers to stop the shooting pains from bothering me while riding – I’ve found it only seems to happen when I have my feet in my pedal straps, and climbing a hill. This ones new for me, as I’ve had my saddle at the same height and angle for years. The hills, while challenging, just take time, and really alter the time that it takes to reach a target of 100km. One day I just gave up when I met a dirt road after struggling to even make 65km. Dirt roads and exhaustion don’t mix, so I stopped for a beer instead. Although there was one time that I went over that triple digit target, in the hot day as I was riding through the savannah I admired the landscape looking for a nice place to sleep when I realized that there didn’t seem to be any cattle or goats around, which are plentiful in the area. In Namibia I remember a police officer explaining to me that “If there’s cows, there are no lions”. My thoughts were verified as I passed a small village while the children and the adults both started chanting “Hey Mzungu! The lions are going to eaaaat yoooou!”. I stopped and talked to a few of them about the prospect of meeting some cats in the night. Definitely a risk, these lions even climb trees. I had planned earlier in the week that I would be stopping before this area, but was lured to the equator taking a few snapshots and opting to move forward, where the locals said it would be a mere 10km to the next village out of the Queen Elisabeth National Park.

Don’t trust the locals. At least for directions, grade of hills, distances, or weather information. 9 times out of 10 its always false. Still I violated that rule and rode onwards another 12km before I found the village, stopping for a beer, chatting with friendly locals happy to see that I had ridden my bicycle into their village nestled deep in the park. They even showed me a school and a church where I could pitch a tent, and bought a few beers for me in the meantime. The sun went down at about 7pm in a matter of minutes as it does, there’s no long drawn out sunset here at the Equator and I opted to just head across the street and pitch a tent at the mosque. I moved as far as possible from the direction of the large horns that fire up at 5am with the call to mecca finding myself near a building next to water. Quickly making dinner (it involved ripping a pre made package of food open, eating it cold as my stove finally malfunctioned altogether and then retired into the tent. Reading away on the Kindle I heard noises outside the tent even through the earplugs which I wear just to cancel out the random noises of drums, chanting, trucks, whatevers. The noises persisted and I opened the zip to the tent fly, poked my head out just to see three rather large animals roaming around my tent, bicycle, and cooking areas. Hippos! I put on my pants and shirt, grabbed my boots and ran like mad as fast as possible back to the bar where I knew people were and told them about the visit. “Oh! We forgot to tell you, the hippos come out to find food in the nighttime!”. Startled and mildly scared about what was to happen to my tent, sleeping gear, bike, and bags the “chairman” (mayor/chief) invited me to stay at his house for the night until day broke. In the morning everything was in order, and at 9am I was off riding away to face the hills. Another close call with Animals in Africa and not one negative encounter with the people, as so, so, so, many people in the western world warned me about.

By far Uganda has taken the place from Zambia away as my favorite country to have visited – Every single area that I’ve been two has been stunning in terms of scenery, some often drawing verbal ‘wows’ out loud as I passed through the many wetlands Uganda maintains, rolling hills with houses perched haphazardly on the sides of them looking like they would just roll off at any time, kilometre after kilometre of tea fields, vantage points where you can get off, have a swig of water while dangling your feet over land 2000 metres below, powerful bodies of water often with waterfalls that are wonderful to swim under, many lakes perfect for capturing sunrise and sundown (Victoria being one of them, along with Bunyoni where I just returned from for two days), and a wonderful climate. I even went through a rainy season here, which wasn’t all so bad in my books, although flooding caused some havoc throughout this time in many communities. The people. How do you even begin to explain the people here – Resilient. This country has been through hell and back with political issues, rebel factions, drought, economic collapse , disease epidemics such as Ebola and HIV ripping apart communities, mass murders and near dictatorship. But you’d never ever know it by having a conversation with any one in any part of the country. No drama, no attacks on cultures, just friendliness, acceptance and positive words. Polite, courteous, and well spoken often lacing their conversations with a joke or two sure to get a laugh every conversation I’ve had with a Ugandan, whether it be a security guard, to a fashion queen, to a journalist, they’ve all got something to say. The food – Yes, it’s local food staples are unripe bananas called matoke, just think potatoes and you are good. Fruit? Get some of the thousands of mangos that are in the north, the pineapples in Central, or one of the gigantic Jackfruits. You can also find mouth watering meats sometimes at the sides of the roads at one of the nations many “Pork Joints”, eliciting a smirk whenever I ride past one of them. A rolex, found for under 50 cents nearly anywhere in the country consists of a hot chapati flatbread wrapped around an omelet. If liquids are your thing, the 5 beers that are local here all have their own separate taste and following, but if you aim for the hard stuff, the Ugandan Gin Waragi will fire up all your cylinders quickly. The Ugandan’s like to have fun, invest time into arts and other community ventures, and are open to new ideas – so it would be absurd to say that I’m not going to miss this place. Who knows, who knows, there might be a return in the future – We’ll let fate decide that one. If I do come back it’ll also take the place of the most distance cycled in any one African country, it’s in 2nd place at just under 1450km.

PS – I’m staying with a family here 24km from the border, another warm and welcoming experience where the father runs a photo studio, mom takes care of the household, 4 yo daughter dances all day, 20 year old daughter draws anarchist art and paintings selling them to rich collectors in the USA, and a few boys study in school. I explained my situation about how my stove stopped working – and the mom and I (ok her) came up with an idea how to solve the problem. 5 strands of wire later, we had both my pumps working in tip top shape, and now I no have to be a miserable sod in the morning without any coffee. If you can’t figure out how to fix something, ask an African.

To Rwanda I go.

Distance and Elevation Chart

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Go while it’s good

Go while it’s good
Posted on: Sunday, June 2nd, 2013 at 5:35pm

I was getting a bit too comfortable. I’d made a solid crew of friends, always finding something to do during the day and in the night, I even lined up a way to remove some of the costs associated with staying at the hostel I was staying at in Kampala, where the fun never seemed to stop. When it did, I went to sleep. When I had to get thing done, and I missed out on the self imposed deadline, I shrugged it off and said, tomorrow. It took 2 weeks to find a tailor to stich my pannier, a job that took 3 minutes to the tune of .30 cents. Knowing that my past history has dictated that I would find myself getting all too comfortable yet again in a city (Lusaka, Nairobi), I grabbed the comfortable band-aid that I had placed over my travelling lonely soul and ripped it off quick and fast. Only I had to do it 4 times, always finding something to keep me back, or an excuse. Eventually the goodbyes turned into a running joke, and the one day, I  exchanged hugs, handshakes, photos, and a grim face as I pedaled away, heading towards the destination of Fort Portal, Uganda, 300km away to the west.

It’s happening more and more, I called it a few months ago with the travellers curse post, or maybe this is what I knew would happen all along, expecting that I’d find myself in a city, not just stopping in for 2 nights, but weeks at a time understanding the culture, way of life, weather patterns, associated nightlife, daylight happenings, and meeting new contacts in the process. I recall claiming I’d be going to the thrift store to pick up clothes in the area so I fit in. That’s never happened. Still wearing the same pairs of pants, one pair of underwear, and when that’s through find a way to deal with laundry and just deal without that pesky piece of undergarment anyways.  As much as this parting is hurting me, I have to stick with what I said I was going to do, or so it seems. I never know what happens in the future if I stay in one place. It seems that always on the first day of riding again my initial plans morph into some wild rendition of a fantasy, still easily attainable with a bit of effort – but this time, the leaving Nairobi fantasy that appeared merged with the one the day before I left Kampala. Interesting times, and we’ll see how this fares. It’s certainly causing some commotion in the brain, but experience has shown in the past that it’s not the end of the world, and not even a problem at all, as long as I can find myself open to what presents itself.  Push away the settling desire (because I’m certainly not ready to go back to work yet), and pedal away, but make sure I don’t become “that guy” – sunburnt, toothless, roaming around for years on end with no destination. Plans aren’t for me, but an eventual goal should be at least blinking in this head of mine. The longer I move, the less powerful it becomes, the longer I stay, the more muddled the original plan gets. The destination? Home. Where’s home? Right here. I need a drink. I’m just going to leave here while the going is so good, so that if I ever do return, I anticipate that very day and hope to be able to have in my pockets the same rose coloured glasses that I left with.

So I find myself sunburnt from the excessively hot sun as I ride on the equator line, malnourished from the lack of available food I’m finding in villages, and sore from the endless hills that I’m met with every kilometre. Serious, this is up and down, not too steep, with maybe a maximum of a 7% grade for 10 minutes of climbing, but its repetitive, constant, and has no end. Turning south past Fort Portal towards Kasesese and Queen Elizabeth National Park show no reprieve, there be hills here – and the bigger ones are a mere 300km ahead, near the border of Rwanda – the land of 1000  hills. I was issued a mere 30 days to travel through Rwanda, which should be more than enough time, as from top to bottom it is a mere 200km, but throw in a few more challenges with those hills. It’s likely the country people in the west remember the most based on the 1994 genocide, where 1 million or so of its residents were killed off in a violent tribalism feud. The effects are still showing today, as many Rwandese are situated in neighboring countries – and thank goodness for that! They’ve been some of the most wonderful people I’ve met in recent months, and if these choice encounters are things to come, I should get a move on and start pedaling towards there. Before then, I’m going to have to watch out for lions in the neighbouring parks, and keep an eye out on what I am consuming – nearby city of Kasese has flooded recently and there has been an Cholera outbreak. I just finished a 5 day 1000mg a day round of antibiotics for “insert random African disease that I didn’t want to go to the doctor for” and I’m not sure my body can take another cancellation of the intestinal flora. Of course it can, I just don’t want it to. I’ve even been thinking about using my water filter, which has been with me for four years and not once been used.

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A fellow named Sebastien from Austria intercepted me, took me back for lunch at his place and sent me off with this radish. It took 3 days to eat. Bigbest Radish ever!

I can’t speak much for the riding, other than the hills – The scenery, stunning with large plantations of bananas, tea, and forest with minimal traffic to have to worry about, the only road peril would be the annoying speed bumps coming in and out of villages obviously put there for a reason. Real good riding, and I’m spending most of the day blasting music, with the bike electrical system working as planned. I’ve managed to damage some of the audio connectors and charging connectors due to the large chassis frame my new phone, and luckily have a spare until I can find some spare ends, snip off the faulty ends off the cable and resolder. The music only seems interrupted by a constant clicking sound when steering. It must be some sort of bearings in the headset or fork, I remember seeing something years ago, not knowing which side it went or not – I’ll pull an African move and ride it until it falls apart, deal with the problem when it presents itself, or at least till I find myself with someone who knows what they are doing, or the energy to write an email to the bicycle frame manufacturer for assistance. Whatever. I’ll need to order some other parts eventually, my handlebar grips are wearing through to the bar, tubes are all filled with patches,  but yet surprisingly, I’m still on the front tire that I left with in Canada in early 2011. That’s over 22,000km on the front tire! It’ll be a sad day when I have to replace it with an inferior tire product, as its well out of production.

I sent a distress call to MSR, the makers of my Dragonfly stove. They’ve gone above and beyond in the past to make sure I’ve had replacement parts repeatedly, I’ve blown fuel filters, broken pump shafts, plunger cups, and just been an imbecile with taking care of the unit, yet without reserves always offer to send me more. I received a very wordy email from someone who spent a decade in Africa with the same stove – and I’m in the process of following the instructions to keep the stove working while I wait for replacement parts. In short? Take it all apart, throw away the fuel filter, and soak everything in Coca Cola for a day. Funny enough, it works. Next, take a sock, yes, a sock, and when filling the tanks with petrol, put it over the nozzle and use it as a filter. I always seem to find a blob of grey in the bottom of my tanks after filling, you’d never find an Octane rating on these fuel pumps here, let alone knowing if its really gas or not. Many black market sellers tweak it with kerosene, a cheaper fuel or put whatever else they feel into it, resulting in poor performance, and in my case, a sparking orange flamed mess when it should be a jet engine powerful blue. I’m going to find some Methyl Hydrate to pull the water out of it, and try to find a small bottle of fuel conditioner to keep it going. Weird quirky little unit, and I’m surprised it’s lasted this long from the daily abuse it gets 3 times a day.

Why bother use a brush or use expensive cleaning fluid when Coca Cola is less than a dollar for 2 litres.

 

The people of Uganda continue to show warmth and friendliness to me. Other than a day where I had a rock thrown at me by children and the fellow who didn’t heed my warnings to not touch my stuff, it’s been a wonderful experience chatting and learning about the cultures and back to playing with the kids. No longer am I looking for stealth camping spots, knowing damn well that I’ll be noticed within minutes, which has turned into a good way to pass the time upon sunrise and waiting for the sun to go down. One thing I am noticing, people are getting short. Real short. Pygmies. To be investigated further,  my maps have been making reference to Pygmy settlements but I’m not sure how recent the information is. As with anything, what was here today can be gone tomorrow. Things happen so extremely quick here in Africa – take for example a few dicey hours wondering if a full scale riot was to erupt over the state sponsored shutdown of two radio stations and two newspapers – over allegations of possession of a letter detailing an assassination plot against the current president, his son, and members of his party. I knew some of the reporters who were affected, and after 11 days were then able to return to work after their workplace was no longer known as a crime scene. Rumors of country wide internet being cuts, social media being monitored, paired with protests, riots, tear gas and arrests just made me realize that although things have been fairly peaceful in the past 21 months of living in Africa, things can change In a split second and to not let my guard down. It’s not that bad, but with limited friends in each country, no family, and no formal safe zones should the shit hit the fan, I want to be aware of my surroundings, wherever they are. Good people attract good people, and I’m sure I’ll be fine. Am really looking forward to Rwanda, where I hope to meet up with someone who I’ve been communicating with for years, and who is the prime reason why I came to this continent to ride in the first place. Readers of other bicycle touring blogs will know who it is, but we’ll see if I’m able to actually connect, or better yet, even make it out of this country which has easily taken the place of the top 3 countries I’ve been to in Africa. Coincidence that the other two are the ones I’ve spent long terms in? I think not.

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Lifestyles of the Stinky and Homeless

Lifestyles of the Stinky and Homeless
Posted on: Saturday, May 18th, 2013 at 11:11am

Uhoh! A strange pattern is emerging! Move 1000km and then stop for long than expected periods of time. Maturity in long-term travel is how I am looking at it – focusing on the detail of an area as opposed to trying to gauge how life is like while passing through for 24 hours or less. I’m in the capital city of Kampala, once known at the city of 7 hills, but with large population growth my knowledgeable quote became stale about the early 1990’s soon morphing into 13 large hills surrounding various neighborhoods of the city of 1.2 million people. It’s the most relaxed East African Capital city I’ve been to as of yet, although it has its own challenges to deal with. Traffic is a mess, but certainly nothing compared to the throngs of traffic in Nairobi, or the sidewalk driving that occurred in Dar Es Salaam Tanzania. Minibuses cart people around, but more common is the Boda Boda, a 125cc or less motorcycle that often rides dangerously through oncoming traffic lanes to get passengers to their spot at a fraction of the price of the standard taxi vehicle. Still, public transportation in East Africa is expensive. 5km usually equates to $10 to move you around, but don’t think the drivers are making lots of money at it – some will wait for half a day for a fare due to the amount of competition they face. I’ve been riding, but not much due to some health issues I was working through. In fact, my last post had me writing about heading to Jinja before coming to the capital, but after a frustrating day of riding on dirt roads (my choice), lack of energy (medication reactions), getting a rock thrown at me by kids in a village (first time), and punching someone in the head enroute into Kampala (I told him 3 times to stop touching my stuff), I opted to B-line into a backpackers hostel where I knew another cyclist was residing and opted for rest.

 

I managed to connect with a friend who I met in Nairobi a few months earlier, moving over to their house, being introduced to their friends spending a few days riding on speedboats on Lake Victoria (which is much more scenic than what I saw on the Kisumu, Kenya side which seems to be infested with weeds), tests of physical endurance dangling in the air with safety belts on obstacle courses, and checking out the nightlight, albeit sober, without beer in hand, as I watched the rest of the patrons evolve into jovial to flat out stumbling messes. Do I look that as well too? On the weekend I was even invited out to Entebbe to go camping, some 40km away from Kampala – a lush green affluent neighborhood of greater Kampala where fine restaurants exist housed inside planes recovered from the 1973 Palestinian bombing on Entebbe, Pizza places that surpass any similar type of restaurant in the Western world both in presentation, price, and taste. Camping at the Entebbe Sailing Club was lush, even though the skies opened up and drenched everything on the day that all  us campers decided to stay extra. Lesson learned even off the bike, stick with the original plan. Highlight however was being able to spend some time with a Ugandan friend I had spent a lot of time with in Nairobi. Saying goodbye and even See ya soon sucks, but thankful for the time spent. I also got over my issue with eating food that was covered in insects, Our food was discovered by ants, and based on news I’ve read recently, the UN actually recommends we chow down on these things more often.

A water funnel on Lake Victoria – WOA!

 

Just shake em off, it’ll be fine!

 

Due to Dam building in Ethiopia on the Nile river, Lake Victoria’s water level is 13feet higher than normal and rising. There is a pier in that photo, but we are also walking on Soda Crates to get to the boat. It’s also causing problems for Egypt, who have little flow from the Nile river that so many millions of people desperately rely on for living.

 

Upon return to Kampala  back at the hostel, I found myself turning into a small celebrity. A few days earlier the press had caught wind that I was in town and came for an interview. I’m usually pretty aloof to accepting these sorts of opportunities – press being notorious for grabbing bits of information and spinning them, or misinterpreting what was said. I was pleasantly surprised to catch wind that articles had appeared on the Daily Monitor’s website in multiple pieces (One being a review of my book, The other talking about travelling through Africa, with the other giving a synopsis of my travels). It wasn’t until I was out in public where I was stopped by many people proclaiming that they had seen my photos and story in the newspaper. I tracked down a copy of the newspaper, flabbergasted by the detail and the fact that I managed to get the centre pullout of the Sunday newspaper. Here’s a picture of the full article, You’ll have to click to zoom in on this high-resolution article.

 

 

Then things got weird. Someone appeared at the Backpackers Hostel I was staying at curious to put a face to the name, quickly turning into a week of nonstop entertainment, as I struggled with the side effects of my medication (vomiting, feeling like getting punched in the gut every hour, irritability, lack of appetite, insomnia, headaches, constant urination woo!). First, I found myself as a guest on NBS TV’s morning show “The Morning Flavour” – answering a few questions, conveniently avoiding questions that could affect my personal safety, even cracking a few jokes along the way. You’ll even get to hear me talk the way I talk to most people in Africa, conveniently missing words when not required, and even having an accent that sounds similar to a Quebecquois. It was a cool opportunity and many photos were taken with the crew and staff. Funny, I think they just grabbed photos of the website, so there’s a ridiculous amount of headstands from around the world broadcast across Uganda.  A few surprises were said throughout the show (which unfortunately I don’t have access to, only the clip below) involving my appearance the following night at a “Ballet Performance” – I tried to keep my surprise down wondering what that meant. Am I performing? Am I dressing up in a tutu? Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?

WBS TV Morning Flavour Crew

The Ugandan National Contemporary Ballet was performing in a theatre in preparation for their European Tour which is commencing in the upcoming months. During costume changes I found myself on stage fumbling through a story of how I ended up in Uganda, answering the common questions I find myself asked on the road daily, and plugging the sale of my book – Desperately trying to get rid of some copies due to the added weight and strain it is causing to the ride, ripping bags, with no ability to carry extra food in the event of desolate times. Fast forward a week later and I only carry a dog-eared colour copy that I show to others – the rest have been picked up and placed for sale in high-end restaurants around town and bookshops via contacts I have met). A strange experience at the Ballet, but a wonderful 1.5 hour show which contained a lot of laughs and some black light trickery for the final performance.

Uganda National Contempoary Ballet

 

It didn’t stop there. I found myself the next night in the VIP section of a Fashion Show, put together by a well-known musician in Uganda, Hellen Lukoma. The dress code was white, so I wore all black and figured my skin colour would act as the entrance for the white – It worked, and the show was a nonstop parade of who’s who in the country of singers, actors from popular TV series, and movies. My arm was sore from shaking hands all night with my new ‘friends’ opening up many more doors to events in the upcoming weeks. At some point over the past few weeks I’ve felt a bit paraded around, but at the same time has been quite fun, a different experience, and I have some good stories to tell and memories of Kampala. Kampala now takes the title of my favorite East African city.

 

I had to wait for a few weeks to get the go-ahead from doctors that I was clear to ride away from Kampala, so I occupied my (sober) time doing writing, performing some well needed bicycle maintenance, patching holes in panniers, and getting a chance to meet other travellers along the way. Technically, while the internet has been available I’ve started to repair many of the issues with this website as I’ve heard reports of Blank white pages, issues with rendering of maps, and other oddities. I reset some of the links on the gear page as well to go to proper sites again, keeping the website up to date is a lot of work! The next update of the website will remove complexities of navigation as it’s grown well beyond what I originally intended this “blog” to be. I also spent considerable time fixing errors in the book – 3 months after publishing typos keep being reported to me – shamefully I update the manuscripts and reupload them to both the electronic and hardcopy publishers. I handed out a couple of complimentary copies in return for reviews (good or bad!) and it seems to be adding a bit of buzz to the book along the way. If you, the reader can commit to a review on Amazon, GoodReads, or Smashwords I’ll even send you an electronic copy at no charge as well! Finally, I worked on a new presentation, filled with all sorts of flashy video effects to keep people interested on a screen in stead of looking at me while I do public speaking. When I do it of course

 

 Cleared from the Doctors, I’m now ready to head west to travel around Uganda a bit more before crossing into Rwanda. I’ve had a surprisingly awesome few set of weeks in Kampala, and although I’m tired from the constant go-go-go aspect of the events I’ve attended it kept my spirits up through some pretty tough mental times. Bonus, is that this slowdown means the rainy season is pretty much over, so I’m looking forward to sleeping in the bush again as opposed to schools, being able to have a beer after riding, and new places to explore. Not looking forward to the mountain that are approaching – Rwanda, my next country is known as the ‘land of 1000 hills’. Gulp.  I’m committing to sticking on Tar roads as much as possible to keep my spirits up and not piss me off for riding . I can’t head out yet from Kampala it seems, as a review of the entrance requirements for Rwanda have since changed for Canadian’s! What was once a no charge/knock on the door of the border with a smile asking to come in/90 days no questions asked policy has morphed into an apply online/hand over $60 USD/hope they accept you affair. I was looking forward to one of the few “free” entrance countries to save a few dollars, but that seems to be a thing of the past for any future countries as well. Was good while it lasted. The only problem with the application is that the online website is down, so I will have to find an embassy in town here and wait days to gain approval. Frustrating, but certainly is a sign of things to come for any countries in the future as they all seem to have their own entry requirements, some even having to send my passport back to Canada for a few weeks. How this is going to go down is beyond me, paired with few warnings from separate foreign affairs offices it’s bound to see that my plans are about to change yet again – Hang around, It’s gonna be a wild ride..

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The Pearl

The Pearl
Posted on: Thursday, April 25th, 2013 at 7:55pm

Sore Butt, stiff legs, waking up at 3am on the dot to go outside and have a whizz, seems like I’m back it in full force. Uganda is the perfect country so far to get conditioned for what I know is coming – the country of 1000 mountains, Rwanda. I’ve been cycling here a  little over a week now and I have to say that this is a very cycle tourist friendly country. The locals, while they will tell you that it is ‘flat’, are close. Light rolling hills can usually be taken care of in gear 5 if I have enough momentum from the previous descent, or 1, my highest gear if I want to take it easy. Most of the time I want to take it easy. The Sun is tough, with temperatures reaching 30 degrees by 10:30am, but unlike Kenya and Tanzania; water is plentiful by the hundreds of boreholes strategically placed everywhere.

Not once have I been in a situation of running out of water like I so often found myself in the previous two countries, and more often than not I can find a mother, or a child who will help me fill my bottles, in return I fill their 5 gallon jugs which they balance on their had so well on the way back to their house. It’s not so much houses here, Uganda has definitely been held back by nearly 25 years of hard times by insurgency, a few bad neighbors, and tough economic conditions. The houses are back to the round mud huts with straw on the roof, often clustered 3 or 4 together, a small family nestled in a plot surrounded by their crops that they so tenderly care for regularly. If they were lucky, they may have one of the monstrous Mango trees that are so popular in the area containing thousands of the near ripe fruits that can be eaten at any meal, or desert. They say June is the optimal time, unfortunately I’m a bit too early. No worries, there is other fruit readily available for purchase in every little village that appears 10 kilometres or less from the last one. Pineapples stacked in piles, avocados, and huge fruits that I always used to regard as ‘bombs’ back in Canada when I’d see them in the grocery store known as Jack Fruit. I’m off beer for a while, so I have a new vice, One Pineapple a day, 2 handfuls of Bananas, and a chunk of Jackfruit to refresh myself throughout the day.

Investors take note – 20% annual interest – Amazing.

 

They’re fearless, they’re back, they’re baboons.

 

Ugandan’s are inquisitive bunches! Many questions, a huge amount of smiles, and waves nearly from everyone I’ve met. I must say hello and briefly converse with 200 people per day it seems, the men usually huddled in a group under shade, and to the women as they ride bicycles back and forth and keep their families together. In fact, it’s a 10:1 ratio of women to men riding the bicycles. True to what the teachers said last week, the road conditions turned positive and I was able to ride on some nice tarmac without bumps jostling through my body – other than the many rumble strips and speed bumps one sees entering into towns. Some have been flattened nicely by overweight semi trucks and I usually find myself quickly shifting to find the easier route at a split seconds notice. I’ve only had one negative encounter with a person so far, which was in Lira, where I stopped for two nights rest staying in a guesthouse, heading out once for an appointment followed by lying in bed the entire day. I had been riding around the city upon first arrival, and was tired from 5 constant days of riding, leaning my bicycle up against a tree. A policeman came by, and we made conversation before he bid me farewell letting me know he was heading to court across the street. He was in Black and White Camouflage. Next, another Police officer came by, dressed in Olive attire and asked a few questions to me aggressively. My phone rang and I answered it, letting them know I’d need to call them back – it was then he noticed I had a camera in my hand.

Lord’s Resistance Army Memorial for lives lost from 1987 – now in Lira, Uganda

 

 

“Are you a journalist?” – No, I replied. “What are you doing here?” – I’m riding my bicycle around Uganda, I replied curtly, as I had just explained that to him less than a minute earlier. “Why do you have the camera?” – Because I was taking photos of this monument over there, I think it’s pretty important stuff! “You can’t take pictures in Uganda, I will detain you and lock you up!” as he started to walk away. I bit my tongue, said a few words silently in my head and watched him walk over to the court. Hey, some people have bad days. Other than that it’s been good. The reason why I took a picture of the monument was to make sure I firmly remembered the conversation I had the day before with 40 people beside a water borehole. Very polite, curious group of adults, with more standing across the street (To which the group apologized for them, and said they were too shy to approach), asking all sorts of questions of my trip, what Canada was like, agriculture, family life. I explained for 30 minutes, and then they taught me a few words in their language, at this stage I can only remember two – Yoga! (Yoh-Gah) – meaning How are you, Bear (BAYr) – Almost cartoon like remembrance for those, and I showed them what Yoga was for the west and other parts of the word to laughter. Sadly, they also explained about why there were so little people in their area and why they were so behind. Victims of Insurgency over the past 20 years decimated their population, collapsed their economy, and brought 40 tribes of Uganda all together from the massacres of one man, Joseph Kony. What an asshole.

KONY 2012 Runtime29:59

Sure, the name stands out – I saw a film on him in Malawi last year which you can see below, which received both positive and negative criticism from around the world. I found it a bit flashy, but it certainly got the message it wanted across, and in fact a lot of the stories are true. This guy was/is a despicable man, coming into villages, lining up the men, having their throats cut, little girls raped, boys taken away to be consumed as child soldiers into his Lord’s Resistance Army, and mothers limbs being cut off in front of their family members. The stories I heard, the piles of bones I was later shown put a hefty lump in my throat and I waved them all goodbye after 2 hours of talking settling into a school for the night where fireflies danced around and a lightning storm was off in the distance. I was surprised when nearly two dozen men appeared upon sundown as they had heard news of a white man who was in the area, introducing themselves as stakeholders of the community, wanting to wish me a welcome, all shaking my hand, saying thank you for coming. I’m starting to find huge similarities with Uganda and Zimbabwe in terms of the wonderful people, way of life. There seems to be a bit more products available in Uganda though.

Start up that Torrent client – 10MB goes a long way!

 

The villages and cities that I ride past are the typical fare, 6 or 7 brick buildings, sometimes painted with a bright colour sponsored by either the phone company, a paint company, or a painkiller company, to many locked and closed doors. I don’t even know what are behind the doors, as there is no signs advertising products or no people around. The odd door will be open and you may find some dry goods for sale, but most of it is found by ladies sitting under a tree selling tomatoes, green oranges, or other things. Sometimes you might even find someone making Chapati’s offering them for sale for about 10 cents each – I stock up on a handful of these circular starch bombs and munch on them in the morning as the porridge I picked up in Kisumu, Kenya just isn’t covering the bases of my nutritional requirements.

Jack Fruit – these sticky sweet things are bigger than my rear panniers!

 

I’ve been staying in schools an awful lot more than expected, but it’s turned out to be interesting, with hundreds of kids watching as I setup and tear down camp in the morning, followed by a question and answer session when I am done my daily chores. Highlights are the presentatons I do in the morning for the P6 and P7 (Think 12 years old’ish) students about my journey, a lot of positive remarks and a lo of hand waving. They’re getting something out of it judging by their huge smiles and laughter when I crack jokes. Seeing 1000 children run out of the classrooms and run after you waving upon exit is a memory that you can never let go of.

A mango tree. Let’s do the math. Yield 2000 mangoes, x what must be hundreds of thousands of trees here?

 

I’m about halfway through my riding over to Jinja, again back to Lake Victoria for a few days rest before heading into the capital city of Kampala. Riding has been good, going through nature conservatories, national parks with huge rivers to cross, although I found one day marred by a constant headwind, bothered in my head about how I was to fix my stoves which both pumps both broke at the exact same time. I figured it out under shade today, likely back pressure causing the pump flappers to rip and become loose, although I have to remove the fuel filter to make it work properly. One step forward and two steps backwards, they say! I have a feeling I’ll have a positive experience the rest of my riding before rest with the friendly smiles, interesting chatter with the locals, and gobbling down fruit to keep my sanity in check. Way to go Uganda!

 

Can’t forget the coconuts either. See why I am camping in schools and NOT under trees during rainy season?

Elevation Chart

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Obstacle Course

Obstacle Course
Posted on: Saturday, April 20th, 2013 at 8:05pm

Yahoo! I actually made it to another post where I’m still riding! Based on my last few failed attempts it seems that I’ve hit the road and I’m committing to it. The road – ugh, Welcome to Uganda, Dave. Getting here was one thing, and then it quickly went down hill fast. On the road. Not the grade. I should find new euphemisms.

When I last wrote I had just left Nairobi, perhaps 2 days in where I was scrambling to get the muscles in my body conditioned before any surprise hills came. Surprise! They came. And they came in hard and fast. 25km of steep grades leaving the days total of 1600 some odd metres ascended sapped my energy, brought frustration as I was turned down for my very first time ever at a church to spend the night. Ok, it was just some groundskeepers in charge of handing out water for the Red Cross who said no, and couldn’t quite grasp that I wanted to have them fetch the Priest’s number so I could give him a call to get authorization. Luckily I had been spotted by many people in the town and word was circulating that someone was roaming around looking for something. A friendly fellow named Richard took me over to the school where he taught at and I was able to settle off. In the morning, 300 children swarmed around my bicycle waiting on their very last day of school of the term asking every question under the sun. I gave a few candies to the ones who asked the good questions, and we managed to grab a bunch of photos too. It’s all downhill the Principal said to me as I rode away to make my way to Kisumu.

 

It’s all downhill for he first 40km, and it’s also all mud. Major diversions in place for a new road to be built made it a slip and slide as I had to shift from side to side on the road and hold on so that I wouldn’t topple over. Covered in mud, both bicycle and myself I seem to have had every truck driver who passed me stick his thumb out the window and give a congratulatory toot on the horn. Then came the climbs again, what the? Worth it to see the Kenyan Highlands where it seems all the Tea is coming from. I saw where the Coffee comes from a few months back, and the tea fields are something that legends are made out of. After a 30km descent at 60km an hour I was at the lowest elevation I’d been since leaving – the temperature rose because of this and I slowly pedaled forward, stopping along the way at a few churches to sleep. The one thing that stands out was the breakfast I was invited to, where I was offered fertilized chicken eggs for breakfast. Hey – I eat Chicken, I eat Eggs, why not eat halfway? Quite Salty but very tasty none the less. Good protein too apparently!

 

I arrived in Kisumu, which is situated on the edge of Lake Victoria, meeting some people I had been in contact with for a few weeks though a hospitality network, taking advantage of some free Wi-Fi, before being escorted by bicycle taxi to the “Ghetto’ as it was affectionately called. The Kisumu Slums. I’ve been in worse locations before, these places had brick walls, electricity and power, compared to some of the places I’ve stayed in and rode past in Africa, so I shrugged off my Couchsurfing host’s comments and made myself at home for a few days, hanging out, getting some good solid rest, meeting people involved in a few Bicycle NGO’s, and a surprise visit to the hospital. I’ll get to that in a few weeks when it’s all over – but I’m now being forced not to drink any beer for the next five or six weeks, while at the same time going in for tests and samples once a week. Everything will be ok – as long as I watch my stress levels. In fact, friends told me that I should stop and rest in nearby Jinja, Uganda for a few weeks, but I’d only go crazy sitting idle, and going back to my reasoning of never being sick while riding, this seemed like a good way to shake my toxins out. It’s working.

Sega, no, not the video game company, but a small township in the western edge of Kenya not far from the border is where I ended up one night saying hello to a friend Julia, and her roommate Leo, whom I met both on the other side of the country in Mombasa. They live at a Catholic Parrish providing healthcare services for people in the community (top problem – Malaria) and provided a bed for me and lots of food. They even helped me out by buying two of the books I’ve been carrying, considerably lightening my load and making bags easier to shut. I’ve gotta get some stitching done again on a pannier as after overfilling it, I ripped it wide open. It’s ok right now, but the more I delay, the worse it will get. Stop procrastinating Dave!

The same went for my power generation kit. I’ve been using my new phone pretty regularly, and it slurps on battery life. I’ve also been listening to music again, as I managed to find a drill press in Kisumu to make my new speaker mounts, as my old ones were too small. Hello Stereo, and hello weird looks from people as I whiz past them playing quirky music. At the end of the day though, my batteries are dying, not charging. I took everything apart again, and found that the connectors going to the hub needed to be reinserted. Will monitor from now on, but I really want to have some good days where there is nothing to be bothersome, and that everything acts optimal. The riding itself is great, and my body is in fine form, the odd ache in the back, pain signal In my leg or knee, and yeah, the ass hurts, but those are to be expected. I’m even getting reasonable sleep. So it is, the routine again. Although I’m not eating cookies before bed anymore – sorry, have to add you to the list of things I can never eat again. African Cookies. I hope the next one is Nutella, as I heard a rumor that in Kampala, Uganda’s capital that it is the same cost as it would be in Germany, and the Germans love that stuff. I don’t know what I am, but I’m all over it as well, memories of it being frozen in 2010 in Québec city and being able to run a spoon across the had brown goodness and place a few shavings into my mouth. When it’s warm I just end up eating the whole damn jar in one sitting, so it would be nice for some cool weather.

It’s not going to happen though, as it’s unreasonably hot in the day, and mostly cool at night, no matter which side of the equator I’m on. I crossed it for the first (of many times coming soon), eventually meeting someone later on that day who told me that the world apparently moves 7 different ways instead of the two ways we’ve all been led to believe. He’s fighting for a world clock in that area to be used for research around the world. I’d always heard that things are lighter at the equator than they are at the poles, but I wasn’t going to test, I did see that Sunrise was at 6:32am, and Sunset was at 6:46pm – so it’s obvious things have gone a bit awry, or we’re not so round after all.

Crossing the border was an easy affair, as I changed all my Kenyan Shillings into the new Ugandan Shillings – which have an awful lot of 0’s attached to the end of them. Any change I had left turned into banana’s hanging off my bag, and a big Pineapple that I salivated about for the next 5 hours after crossing the border, being told by Kenyan Authorities I needed to fly back to Canada if I ever wanted to return, and with a smile by a female Ugandan border officer who said I was welcome for 90 days and could even work if I wanted to tell them. As I waited I watched the debacle of what’s been happening US Stateside in the east coast. It was a terrible thing to occur, but at the same time I’ll leave all my comments to myself other than “Whatever happened to Innocent until Proven Guilty?”. I’m not sure if it was related today, but I received a lot of yelling, and some pretty negative remarks from people who assumed that I was from my southern Neighbor as opposed to Canada. Ugh – I hope people can keep their cool.

I had an experience that has been on my mind sometime in the middle of nowhere in Kenya. I entered a Petrol station to buy a cold drink. When I paid, the female attendant looked at me and said – I have met you before! I get this all the time, so I shrugged it off and said that no, this was my first time in the area. She then proceeded to tell me when I arrived in the mid morning, bought a bag of popcorn, and a 500mL Coca Cola, paid with a 200 shilling note, and sat outside by myself before leaving. This is where it gets strange. She told me she had met me late November, 700km away. It finally clicked with me that I had been in a similar situation, and was amazed that she could remember the exact transaction. It turns out she travels around helping people out at the chain of petrol stations who are on leave which is how she ended up in the middle of nowhere. I can only wish I had the same memory that some people I have met on this trip have.

Uganda seems to be ok so far! Crappy roads, but awfully nice people who insist I come and stay with them, even if they are one room shacks with 5 people living inside. Politely I decline and give them my phone number and contact information in hopes we’ll see again and move forward. Rolling hills but nothing steep to strain myself over which is a huge plus as I pedal off the effects of high powered medication, learning a new unit of measure, p/H (Pukes per hour). Yup, it’s happening multiple times, and I’ve now just given up on stopping entirely and letting it go while riding, using a bit of water to rinse my mouth when finished and slamming a piece of ginger in my mouth to suck on afterwards. Should be all over soon. Many people seem to be quite confused that I’m going up this way towards South Sudan, as the typical route is from Nairobi straight to Kampala, but I figured since I’ve wanted to get myself back into riding, exploring, and trying new things again, I figured a 900km detour would be worth while. Besides, what’s the rush?

A blessing in disguise came today, as I declined the 3 offers to stay in some ones house for the night, looking for some peace and quiet. I was riding along for 45 minutes in drizzling rain, spying churches (last resort, knowing that tomorrow being Sunday brings people in the morning), rest areas (hard to come by, but I found a chicken coop the night before that worked well to sleep in), and finally Schools, which always seem to have a stash of rain water and a roof to protect from the nightly downpours. It turns out I met a few teachers as I pulled in who were living on the grounds, who said I could pitch my tent under the aluminum roof, but I could also go inside if I wanted to. Right when they said this the clouds opened up and downed more rain than I have seen in weeks in one spurt, flooding the area. I made it within 45 seconds, and smiled as I wheeled my bicycle into the very modern school classroom. It even had two power plugs being unused! The power was out, but it eventually turned back on, allowing my components to start charging since they have been neglected do to the loose wires I mentioned above. So that’s that, nothing special, business as usual.Apparently the roads get better in a few hundred kilometres, whatever.

 

Elevation Chart

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Deja Vu

Deja Vu
Posted on: Tuesday, April 9th, 2013 at 8:16pm

This all seems like I’ve been in this situation before. It’s April. I’ve set out again on my bicycle. I’m fighting back emotions and wondering if I’ve done the right thing by saying goodbye, and not sticking around and seeing if I can make a life where I settled for the past few months. My ass hurts. I’m sunburnt, my stove doesn’t work, I’ve run low on water on the first day, and metering what little I have so that I can have some breakfast in the morning. It’s going to rain. Am I crazy? Am I safe? I’m situated at the top of a viewpoint pitching my tent illegally over looking the Rift Valley. I’ve been here before, but this year is different. I’m in Kenya, I’m leaving with more gear than I ever have carried at one time, and it’s rainy season.

 

This brings me onto the 4th year of traveling, or whatever I seem to think I’m doing. I’m sure if you looked hard enough in the archives a not so matured traveler once wrote on this very blog that the journey was to be3 years around the world. Well, that’s done, and I’ve blown through that easily by finding comfort in a hot shower, a stove, and even a kettle to drink a half dozen cups of tea in the day.I’ve made friends everywhere I go, and said “See ya soon” to each and every one of them, knowing damn well the likelihood of ever seeing each other physically again is next to nil. Social media helps, but is a really poor replacement. All I see are cat pictures now.

I have to say I came really close to settling in Nairobi. I made the comment when I put the deposit down on a huge house in a pretty well off area of the city that everything, and I mean everything needed to be perfect in order for me to stop. See my post regarding the Travelers Curse. Well, reality bites – It wasn’t perfect, and the housing situation was almost nightmarish. It brought a few things to light in me of where I really want to settle, and see myself stopping, which, I honestly can’t tell you what that is, so I’ll travel again. I also found I haven’t sorted out some of the things I set out to do – communication still needs a bit of work, Conflict Resolution is also sitting way up there on a look into topic – now some things are entirely out of my control, but I’m sure I could have handled my end a bit better. Nairobi is a clusterfuck of a town, the traffic is how legends are formed, but there always seems to be something to do. It’s cleaned up over the past few years and moving away from it’s ‘Nairobbery’ moniker, but that doesn’t mean anyone should not drop their guard. I even went through a presidential election, where I holed myself up in my house for a week with a sack of rice, a bunch of beer, waiting for the results to be announced, in fear of mass riots like what occurred in 2007. Nothing happened, a week later I still had most of the rice, I found someone to deliver beer a couple days in, and everything went back to normal wen it was all said and done when the country elected a President who is indicted and is to stand trial at the Hague for Crimes against Humanity.Nice!

So that’s that. I’m travelling again, and contrary to what I posted about in December 2012 about flying to Europe, I have had a real long time to think about things. I came here for a reason. I wanted to see what it would be like as the one that everyone stared at, heckled, spoke in strange languages, tried to get money from me, befriend me, or just want to have conversation. I wanted to reset a few things in my head about society, the need to have certain things in your life and what were the actual requirements. Coming to Kenya was sort of like a little vacation. They’ve got a beach! Lots of it, if you are wiling to take a 10 hour bus ride, which I certainly did over 8 times over this past 5 months. You can buy things! Food, Electronics, Clothing – amazingly at reasonable prices, and if you are to buy one of the things, the process is efficient, and trouble free. Hell, I even own a suit and tie again. It’s a long story, and I’d rather not get into it. I did my best to throw it on a grille with gasoline but was stopped by an invitation to a wedding in a nearby country. OK OK.

That nearby country is Uganda, which is where I’m headed to. No rush, No fuss, Pole Pole as they say – slowly but surely. I tore my hamstring the last time I went for a ride after being off the bicycle so long, only going the 240km some odd distance from Arusha, Tanzania to Nairobi, Kenya – remember that? I’ve decided that I will give this another go again, and commit to finish what I started. I’m not going back to Canada, the 3 year period is over. There is not going to be a couple dozen people waiting for me at a finish line saying congratulations, that was all nonsensical fairy tale thoughts to prime me for the first departure. This is my life, and I wander by bicycle, I suppose searching for that elusive Shangri La. For you, the reader, this is fantastic. More Posts! More Reviews! More Ramblings! More Photos! Thanks for sticking with me for so long. I might write a book about Africa when I finish it, but I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself. It seems that I’m getting positive commentary on the one I just published, and based on my motivation and how long that one took, it might be easier to just go to the Casino and throw everything on the Roulette red 23. At least you’ll know if something’s going to happen in a minute or less.

I need a project. I just can’t ride a bicycle aimlessly. I need to occupy my time. In 2010 it was Project me – sorting through all the noise in my head. In 2011 I built a huge online bicycle network and started writing the book. In 2012 I spent my time focusing on that book, and less focusing on what was going on. The last two involved the computer. I don’t want a project that revolves solely around a computer. Sure, I find solace in it after a long day of being pestered and yelled at by dozens of people throughout the day, and I can lose myself in it momentarily, but I need something else. I’m carting around 12 books with me, that I intend on selling hell or high water to people that I meet, and considering public speaking again, after a 2 year hiatus. I’ve got the presentation format, enough stories, and am more than comfortable with speaking to groups of people (I first learned that you should imagine everyone in the room is naked? Everything’s been peachy since then), and I met someone who has journalistic skills and PR capabilities to introduce me to. Why not? Anything to get these damn books off my rear of my bicycle. They way so much!

In between the resting, relaxing, friend making, landlord cursing, I had a surprise visit – my Dad! I tried to think back when I arrived in Africa for the first time, watching it through him was an experience in itself. He had mentioned a few things that he wanted to see, and we covered all of those bases, but only in the way that I could afford. That meant cost saving Matatu’s (small mini buses that hold 14 people) which constantly blast reggae music, drive on sidewalks, and into oncoming traffic, did another Safari, this time on the way to Mombasa, where the Indian Ocean resides, and drank an awful lot of beer and vodka. Nice to see the guy. Seriously, it’s been years. He was nice enough to fill an entire suitcase for me of things. PVC Pipe ends that I can’t find here so I can mount new speakers to the bicycle, mail that has been piling up for months since my last mail drop, ahh what the hell, cut the crap Dave – The Suitcase was filled with about 9 new shirts, 3 new pairs of pants, new boots, a new Amazon Kindle reading device (I’ve dumped the 3G version, I rarely used the feature, and think that one that provides a light to read from is waaaaay more useful as I was burning through the AAA batteries on my headlamp pretty good), and a new phone (back to Android! This time a Samsung S3), among other things. 22 books, about 300 pairs of earplugs, and even a spare coffee cup. I went to town, and actually left a bunch of it back in Nairobi, knowing that I’ll be able to get it back in the coming months when going to a wedding. Everything had been falling apart over the past few months, my socks had holes in them, and shirts were starting to come thin. I already knew I was going to continue across Africa, and I wanted to make sure I had my little comforts going on before I set off. I still haven’t reset fully from the West it seems, still need a few things here and there. If a random person looks at my pictures, they may assume that they were taken over a few weeks period, but that’s just because I wear what I like, and what I like has been that way for 4 years. Seems pretty odd for someone to say he doesn’t like change when its all around him.

Dad left, and I started the process to head out. Stretching, Surfing on peoples couches again, and the long drawn out process of saying goodbye. I only said goodbye to half of the people I think this time, it takes a lot out of me to do it. So I’ll just become that bad friend who may have to deal with someone saying that I should have told them, getting an earfull/screenfull momentarily, and let them know that I may return. I don’t know what tomorrow brings, heck, I found myself back in Zambia for another 3 months last year remember? Random!

So with all of that, Welcome Back, and get ready for some more stories. Oh, and pictures of me being completely filthy. It’s rainy season here, and on clockwork rains at 5pm where I was staying, and this night is no different. Amazing thunderstorms shake everything around you followed by amazing forks of lightning that come down in rapid fire every few seconds. The aftermath means that there is mud everywhere on the dirt roads, now turned into mini lakes, which also heightens the risk for Malaria, and Waterborne Illnesses – What fun! More to come. I can’t wait! It does make for nice riding throughout the day, where the clouds burn off by 7:30am, and then move in at about 2:30pm. This just means I’m going to have be a whole lot more social asking for roofs to camp under – I mean sure, the tent is waterproof (or is it with all the thorn hole rips?), but packing a wet tent is sure to have me frustrated, so it’s a trade off. Just like life, and just like every decision we make.

Elevation Chart

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LED Lenser P3BM Flashlight

LED Lenser P3BM Flashlight
Posted on: Thursday, April 4th, 2013 at 2:01pm

A few months go I suffered a loss of my every day carry knives, the Leatherman Wave Multitool, and the Spyderco Mini Manix. Crushed from the loss after finding out the latter was well out of production, but that’s a whole other story in itself. I took advantage of a friend being able to deliver products from Canada over to me in Africa, saving on costly shipping fees ordering replacements and was quite surprised when the new Leatherman Wave Multitool came with a few extras, namely a set of bits for the screwdriver, and a little flashlight, that conveniently fit inside the included holster for the Multi Tool. I’d already been carrying a headlamp when traveling and a few key chain lights to light up the way, and if all else failed, the torch function on my cellular phone but figured – what the heck, let’s see how this extra piece of equipment works out – if I lose it, nothing is lost as it came as a freebie.

Leatherman 831529 Wave® + Led Lenser P3 Combo

Price: $89.97

(0 customer reviews)

Fast forward six months later, and I found myself lost without the unit when it suffered a technical issue, not knowing what I’d do next without my everyday carry torch. Through a combination of being in the right country at the right time and responsive customer service I’m back in action with my light. I’ll get to those details later, but first lets focus on the good stuff. Check out the LED Lenser P3BM Flashlight.

Small enough to fit in your pocket or on a keychain at only 9.45cm (3.72in), this little black beauty contains an impressive array of specifications in this 42gram unit. Led Lenser has been perfecting their product line since 1994 in Solingen, Germany. Initally refused a loan from the bank to produce their first light, the two founders persisted and now see their company grown to over 1000 employees worldwide to support their 50+ products produced. This obviously caught the eyes of the Leatherman Tool group in Portland, Oregon – they flat out bought the company in the past few years, which shows where the promotional freebie came from in my recent Leatherman Wave purchase. Leatherman’s known worldwide for their variety of tools and life long warranty and I think they’ve added a great product line to keep their company relevant and generating sales. Once you buy one of their tools you hold onto it until it’s either lost or stolen.

LED Lenser 880018 P3 LED Flashlight, Black

Price: $14.36

(19 customer reviews)

The P3BM advertises itself as a 14 lumen throwing device for 31 metres for up to 6 hours and 30 minutes, also being advertised as IPX4 rated, essentially meaning that it can be used in rain, or handle splashes of water, but can’t be immersed. Seems reasonable enough for this little unit. Now, before we go any further, I’m not a scientist, just a regular guy who uses products to their maximum, in some petty extreme environments. You’ve likely read some of my other reviews, so this will fit right in with them. Let’s see what you get when you purchase a Led Lenser P3BM in retail:

 

Presented in an attractive cardboard box, you start to get to the inside after removing the small paper strap surrounding the outside, flipping the top lid away from you. A brief series of specifications greets you on the inside of the top flap, and what we’ve all come for, is the unit itself. I found this to be a fairly impressive packaging for a product of it’s price range. You can see the flashlight in the front, on the right in the rear, a small clip, which you’ll see momentarily, and a single AAA battery that is used to power the torch. Bonus points to LED Lenser for not cheaping out and giving a crap battery with the product like we see with so many manufacturers these days just to be able to flaunt that batteries are included. If you lift the compartment holding the flashlight and components, you’ll find some other goodies at the bottom of the box, alongside a product manual, a small foldable product catalogue.

You get a small lanyard to tie to the tail end of the flashlight (which I’ve reappropriated to use for my Canon Camera, as after a year and a half of heavy usage the old one snapped), and a nylon holster that can be attached in many ways to a belt, or whatever you need as it combines a detachable belt loop with Velcro and a snap. The flashlight fits snugly inside the holster and can be removed quickly when attached horizontally on the belt. LED Lenser has also includes a small removable pocket clip that would be useful in some situations. To be honest, all the accessories have also found heir own uses and homes, falling into the category of “I needed exactly something like this for (some other product)”. All are useful and well made, that don’t look like they’ll rip, break, or snap after a few weeks of usage.

 

Opening up the LED Lenser P3BM is simple, at first. The tail piece simply unscrews revealing a small compartment to slide the battery into. A couple turns of the tail end switch seals it back up for usage, and you are ready to go, by pressing on the rubberized switch to power the device. An audible and a haptic click lets you know that you’ve activated it, and if you use just a small amount of pressure you can temporary power up the unit to briefly without having to activate the switch to power it down again. I found my 2nd units rubberized switch to be bigger than its previous model, and a bit tougher to press, due to it being more flush to the back-end. Still, on the older unit I never showed any wear on the rubberized switch revealing any of its innards and damaging its water-resistant rating.

The top of the flashlight where the lens is located also is removable for maintenance, revealing a single LED with nothing else. It’s a simple design, for a simple product. Removing the top confused me at first as the unit can be rotated to focus and adjust light.

 

 

LED Lenser tacks a BM suffix to the end of the model name, standing for Blue Moon. They state that due to their special manufacturing process of prismatic structure, they separate parts of the blue spectrum from the white spectrum. The blue components are thus projected to the edge of the light cone and the result is an excellent, clean white light to read by with a mellow blue circle to frame the reading area. Their claim is that Blue Moon optics make reading and general viewing easy on the eyes for less eye fatigue. don’t know otherwise, but prefer to have no blue, but all white. Regardless, this little unit packs a powerful light even during the day, useful in many situations. The light itself is focusable, with a light pressing of the top of the rotating lens unit, either or out. Check out if you can see the elusive moon.

 

Adjustment all the way Out

Middle Adjusted

No Adjustment, Wide Beam

 

I find myself pulling out my P3BM multiple times throughout the day to get a closer look at components, to read small lettering, to guide the way for people walking in the dark in what is turning out to be a rainy Nairobi, and late night ventures to the washroom when inside a hosts house not wanting to trip over something and wake the household up. I’ve even used it as a bicycle light. As I mentioned, LED Lenser claims a 6hr 30 minute operating time. In my non scientifical way I’m unable to back up their claims, yet only speak of the real world usage of a few minutes a day over the course of 6 months, sometimes more and sometimes less. I noticed the light getting dim, and then one day nothing at all. I was ready to change the battery.

I couldn’t actually remember the battery application when I received my first unit, and went to go and remove the tail cap from the unit, struggling to find that it had seized. I grabbed a piece of fabric to protest the metal casing of the flashlight and used the pliers of my Leatherman Wave Multi Tool to start the counter-clockwise removal process. It came off easy enough and I was faced with yet another compartment hiding the battery, and I was looking at the other side to the rubber switch. It seems that these units can have all parts replaced in many ways, and I had opened up the access point to the switch, which is good for a couple million uses apparently. How would I get access to this new component I wondered? I tried again with the Multi Tool, careful not to strip the now exposed threads to gain access to the battery. I tried 7 or 8 times before putting the tail cap on, not wanting to destroy the unit. I also experienced the struggle with getting the front lens assembly off, which I now relate to not knowing where I should actually be unscrewing, and ended up turning the focus assembly for 30 seconds before realizing I should look at the manual, which I had conveniently pitched in the trash months earlier. I went to the LED Lenser website, and tried to navigate around the site, hoping for a manual. I couldn’t find one t the time (I found one on their US site while writing this review!) and ended up just sending customer support a message asking for help, a manual and any advice.

It wasn’t 12 hours later that I had an email waiting in my Inbox from the Eastern African rep for the LED Lenser product line, asking me to come down and see him at his office which was a mere 5 kilometres away. It seems that the support team at LED Lenser had followed my email signature that advertises this very website and found that I was in Nairobi, Kenya. Unfortunately I couldn’t head to the offices right away, so I suffered for 14 days without the usage of my LED Lenser P3. When I was able to I went tot the offices, met a friendly fellow named Glen who talked to me a bit about where and when I bought the unit, and disappeared for 3 minutes. He came back stating that he had put the unit into a vise and tried to remove the cap to the battery compartment, handing me a brand new unit. It was then I found out the units have a 2 year global warranty. He guessed that somehow water must have entered into the unit and the battery could have corroded seizing the access point, and had never seen anything like it before. I asked to look at a couple of the other products that LED Lenser offered, ranging from a big heavy duty flashlight that took big D cell batteries to a newly released rechargeable unit perhaps double the size in bulk capable of putting out over 400 lumens operating on a single rechargeable battery. I put the new unit into my Leatherman holster and rode my bicycle away, happy I didn’t have to wait for weeks sending the faulty unit back and waiting for a new one to come in the mail. I used the new light less than 30 minutes later with a grin on my face.

I never expected I’d find such a use for a small pocket flashlight on a daily basis, and now find this is an essential every day carry device when on and off the bicycle. It’s small enough to be concealed and adds little weight onto my belt not getting in the way of doing what I do. The battery life is outstanding and the body puts up with drops bumps and getting wet from sweat or rain. I’m a bit concerned about not being able to open up the rear tail cap in the future, and will report back once it’s time to change the battery on this new unit. In the meantime I’ve applied a small layer of grease to the threads to make sure it doesn’t happen again in the future anyways. While I didn’t pay for my unit and it came along with another tool, I’d recommend anyone who needs, or doesn’t think they need a light to use in situations the Led Lenser P3BM flashlight. Sure, there are cheaper options, but you get what you pay for, and for me, a company that stands up to their product and goes much further than a couple of bucks saved.

 

LED Lenser 880018 P3 LED Flashlight, Black

Price: $14.36

(19 customer reviews)

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The Book

The Book
Posted on: Sunday, March 3rd, 2013 at 4:06am

From the “Holy cow, it’s finally done department”..

Hello again, Still here are you? Thanks for waiting – I went into hibernation mode for a few months trying to finish a project that has been ongoing for way too long.

2 years after starting, I can finally say it’s done; What a relief!

It seemed that many people I would meet while traveling on the road from 2009 to 2011, wanted to know more about the whole process of traveling by bicycle, why I chose to drop everything, and taking the chance to live without a home for an extended period of time. At the time I was content with the output of the thoughts on this website, but eventually my mind started to wander and trace back the root causes, and just what I was trying to accomplish here. So I decided that I’d try my hand at writing a book. I don’t know how to write, well, that’s not true – but I just write what I feel.

I started taking notes in early 2010 of what I’d like to see on paper, eventually commencing the writing of the book in 2011 while riding in the United States of America. I blew through self imposed deadlines left right and center, hoping to have written 1000 words a night at the end of the day of a long ride. Boy was I wrong. I shelved the project half a dozen times and continued making notes, before heading over to Africa.

I had a few other projects on the go at the time and 2011 quickly turned into 2012, where I spent some time writing again while in Zambia, figuring it would be completed by the time I set off for Zimbabwe. Wrong again, 1000 words a night were the goal as I was pedaling into Mozambique, and stopped come Malawi, again letting it sit. Anyways, fast forward to December 2012 – In Kenya I finished the first draft of the book, happy with the result, sending it over to 4 people for reviews. Happy that I completed it I waited anxiously for their reports.

In the meantime I surely didn’t know what else I was getting myself into.. I decided that I was going to self publish, eager to learn the ins and outs of how things worked, solely as a learning experience. To put it bluntly - Publishing a book is hard work. Writing is one thing, Layout is a whole other world. In the process I learned to properly use a word processor, desktop publishing system, finally understand image layers, understand differences in colours, differences of paper, thickness, bond weight, reflective properties. That’s on paper, then comes electronic versions, different size orientations, screen resolutions, and file size restrictions. And if that wasn’t all – registered trademarks, copyrighting, ISBN codes, and distribution marketing to stores around the world. Whew! I had it figured out – until the edits came in!

Fast forward to the last day of February, where I’ve crawled into a hole for the past 2 months, rarely answering phone calls, spending as much free time as possible to get this prepared for publishing. 5 total rewrites later, and 24 edits, managing the cover design, and arranging for sending proofs halfway across the world so that people could report back on which type of paper, and colours looked best, borders vs drop shadows, corner fades vs 90 degree edges. I’ve put a ridiculous amount of time into the writing, editing, formatting, layout, distribution, and now production, but my effort is now showing -

May I present to you: Tired of I.T! – How I learned to stop worrying without the Bicycle. I’ve created 3 editions – One being a colour copy, a stripped down Black and White paperback edition, and an E-Book (yes there’s even 3 editions for whatever reader you use). I didn’t intend on so many editions, but once I found out the cost of the colour edition to print, I decided to make an alternative. Colour printing is EXPENSIVE! I had no option of doing a “Hybrid” Black and White with colour photos book, so the cost to print is nearly 8x the amount as the Black and White copy. The text is the same between the two printed editions, just that the Colour has more pages. The eBook copy is a replica of the Colour edition. Still – I’ve learned that unless you are a big author, and expect to sell thousands of copies,  there’s not much profit to be made out of book publishing – The colour edition is basically at a give away price, I’m just happy to share this edition with people, where I’ll make a little bit to keep me going forward with the Black and White copies. Once they leave this website though, it’s literally pennies on the dollar as the big stores take their cut and use their buying power to bargain down the distributors. Whatever – If it gets me a few beers I’ll be happy. I didn’t write it for the money, I wrote it to get thoughts that have been rolling around inside my head for a good 30 years – achieving one of my goals that I set out to do when riding – clear the mind.

With a clear mind, I can now use this free space inside the head to focus on new things, clearing away the clouds, and movnig forward. I hope that you’ll get something out of what I’ve written, as it might encourage future writings. I’d love to hear your comments, but I’m also ready for the criticisms that go along with it. I can take a few tomatoes, just stay away from the rocks, eh? I’ve made a point to use paragraphs, proper spacing, and all sorts of things that you don’t usually see here on this website. It actually looks like a book!

You can visit the book’s page here: http://www.tiredofit.ca/book/ – Over the course of the next few weeks it may or may not appear in the bookstores – Ask your retailer if it is coming in, and see if they can order some, otherwise you can always contact me privately and see if I can hand deliver you a copy For you Africa readers, there’s a couple dozen coming mid march. I can’t stop thanking A. Nyirenda, S. Stanley, A. Hryhorczuk, B. Otieno, for putting up with my constant harassment during the edit process, A. Girdler for my on again, off again ideas for the cover (do you know where the inspiration came from?), E. Corica for the proof review and showing it to the handful of people to get their input, and all of those people that who’ve been expecting a bit of communication from me, whether it be with a phone call, an email, or over a beer over the past few months. Now, let’s go have one.

More riding to come shortly..

 

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Blood, Sweat, and Gears

Blood, Sweat, and Gears
Posted on: Sunday, January 27th, 2013 at 6:58am

For the long term readers – remember way back when in 2010 while I was travelling across Canada and met a bunch of fellows looking to film a movie on their way up to the arctic? Well, we all made plans to go through the journey together, filming the process with multiple Point of View cameras, a few professional digital cameras, some handhelds, and far too many microphones that didn’t work properly. For the new readers – in 2010 with no planning I foolishly thought it would be a great idea to ride far north on a bicycle and record the experience.

That was 3 years ago – many events have occurred since then, but the whole experience is not forgotten.  I’d like to let you know that the footage actually made it into a film, and happy to say that it’s being broadcast across Canada starting January 29th, 2013 on the RadX channel which is dedicated to extreme adventures. I’d classify the journey as extreme, with no food, no water, bugs, bear, bison, huge rabbits eating my helmet, stealing coffee cups, and insanity from the sun not setting the entire time. Get comfortable with the name Riding North – it’s a simple no frills name for a complicated journey that spanned 1900km over the course of a month through a few territories of Canada and varied road (?) conditions.

With no service for cellular phones or contact I actually separated my self from the other riders for quite some time –  my appearance is sparse, but for those who want to have an idea of what its actually like heading up into the ‘circle’ it’s a good view for anyone interested in crazy travel. I don’t think I’d want to go through this journey ever again, and watching it all compressed into 50 minutes is bringing back fond memories with a lot of cringing and shaking of the head at the same time from the blatant disregard for being in the wild.

 

 

For those in Canada – it’s going to be playing on RadX at various times all the way until 2018. You can see the RadX channel in Canada at if you have satellite: Bell TV Channel 1627 – if you have IPTV: Bell Aliant TV Channel 477, Bell Fibe TV Channel 1627, MTS Channel 494, Optik TV Channel 645, SaskTel Channel 473, and on many cable providers channels across the country. All is not lost though, if you are aren’t in the country you can view it by downloading the movie from the website http://www.ridingnorthmovie.com or even order a DVD.

Here’s the Trailer:

 

A big shout out to Steve Langston, Reghan Bieber, Chris Mitchell, and Ryan Mitchell for the experience – That was nearly 3 years ago – Hope you all are doing well!

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The curse

The curse
Posted on: Thursday, January 24th, 2013 at 1:56pm

It seems I’m repeating patterns here – Posting once every 2 months – quite the unexpected shift from the daily posts a few years back. I am alive and well, but certainly in a different headspace these days just being led by random encounters, activities, and the lure of hot weather. I’m still in Kenya, back in the capital city of Nairobi. So much for heading in to Uganda, flying to Greece or Cyprus as mentioned in the last post – there are a few reasons for it.

My hamstring wasn’t feeling better until the end of December, where I managed to pick up a nasty cold with moved into a flu leaving me bedridden for nearly 9 days. I was the cause of it obviously, I took up cigarette smoking again, and like in the past quickly moved from 1 cigarette all the way to 1-2 packs a day in a short amount of time. Happy to report that its been 40 days since the last one. Such a problem for me these past few years. Instead I took up drinking beer instead. That’s been cut out as well as it’s quite easy to get into the habit of downing a few beers every day just for the sake of it.

Upon trying to leave Nairobi for a trip I went and pulled my hamstring again – obviously a sign that it wasn’t fully healed and that I should just take it easy. Besides, I have a project that’s been bothering me for 2 years now, and I’ve done a real poor job at getting it finished. I’ve been making noise on twitter and Facebook about what it is – but the cat’s out of the bag now: I’m writing a book. The writing has been done for quite some time now written in various different countries, yet only focuses on the first 3 years of travel through North America – Africa’s gotta wait until I’ve had a chance to digest this place. Through many rounds of edits from friends who have stepped up to go through the process with me I’ve realized that I’m a terrible speller, and even worse at grammar. Worse, My paragraph structure is terrible! So, on Edit 19 I feel confident that I’m getting close to the end of this 238 page piece of garbage. Over the years people who have gotten to know me have made the request that I write something to explain how this whole trip came to be and after many months of thinking I decided to go ahead with the project, for the sole reason that it would be nice to get a lot of the thoughts and feelings I’ve been holding onto out on paper and out of the brain. Already a sense of clarity has come over me and I feel like I’ve swapped out a brand new memory storage device in my head. Obviously there’s some dirt in there that’s going to ruffle some feathers, but I’ve done my best to tell a factual story of the trials and tribulations of mental burnout and the shift to a simpler life using the bicycle as a mechanism for assisting in finding balance. If I can stay focused and get the final pieces together we should see it published in 3 weeks from now in 3 editions, a limited colour edition with pictures, a trade paperback in black and white, and an eBook loaded up with extra content such as video, more pictures, and some other writings. Being the stubborn fool I am I’m handling all the tasks on my own, learning a a lot about the publishing industry, layout, the tools of the trade and how much of a pain in the ass Microsoft Word is. It’ll get done eventually – I need all the support I can get.

I read something a few months ago and it hasn’t left daily thoughts since then. It’s called the Curse of the Traveler – this piece pretty much explains all of the emotions I’ve felt over the past year and likely the reason why many other long term travellers have hit a wall after the 3 year mark – check this out:

‘The travelers curse – An old vagabond in his 60s told me about it over a beer in Central America, goes something like this: The more places you see, the more things you see that appeal to you, but no one place has them all. In fact, each place has a smaller and smaller percentage of the things you love, the more things you see. It drives you, even subconsciously, to keep looking, for a place not that’s perfect (we all know there’s no Shangri-La), but just for a place that’s “just right for you.” But the curse is that the odds of finding “just right” get smaller, not larger, the more you experience. So you keep looking even more, but it always gets worse the more you see. This is Part A of the Curse.

Part B is relationships. The more you travel, the more numerous and profoundly varied the relationships you will have. But the more people you meet, the more diffused your time is with any of them. Since all these people can’t travel with you, it becomes more and more difficult to cultivate long term relationships the more you travel. Yet you keep traveling, and keep meeting amazing people, so it feels fulfilling, but eventually, you miss them all, and many have all but forgotten who you are. And then you make up for it by staying put somewhere long enough to develop roots and cultivate stronger relationships, but these people will never know what you know or see what you’ve seen, and you will always feel a tinge of loneliness, and you will want to tell your stories just a little bit more than they will want to hear them. The reason this is part of the Curse is that it gets worse the more you travel, yet travel seems to be a cure for a while.

None of this is to suggest that one should ever reduce travel. It’s just a warning to young Travelers, to expect, as part of the price, a rich life tinged with a bit of sadness and loneliness, and angst that’s like the same nostalgia everyone feels for special parts of their past, except multiplied by a thousand.’

-

Make any sense? It’s not a new thing that’s come in the past few decades – Former US president Thomas Jefferson wrote this to his nephew on August 10, 1787 from Paris.

Travelling. This makes men wiser, but less happy. When men of sober age travel, they gather knowledge, which they may apply usefully for their country; but they are subject ever after to recollections mixed with regret; their affections are weakened by being extended over more objects; & they learn new habits which cannot be gratified when they return home. Young men, who travel, are exposed to all these inconveniences in a higher degree, to others still more serious, and do not acquire that wisdom for which a previous foundation is requisite, by repeated and just observations at home. The glare of pomp and pleasure is analogous to the motion of the blood; it absorbs all their affection and attention, they are torn from it as from the only good in this world, and return to their home as to a place of exile & condemnation. Their eyes are forever turned back to the object they have lost, & its recollection poisons the residue of their lives. Their first & most delicate passions are hackneyed on unworthy objects here, & they carry home the dregs, insufficient to make themselves or anybody else happy. Add to this, that a habit of idleness, an inability to apply themselves to business is acquired, & renders them useless to themselves & their country. These observations are founded in experience. There is no place where your pursuit of knowledge will be so little obstructed by foreign objects, as in your own country, nor any, wherein the virtues of the heart will be less exposed to be weakened. Be good, be learned, & be industrious, & you will not want the aid of travelling, to render you precious to your country, dear to your friends, happy within yourself. I repeat my advice, to take a great deal of exercise, & on foot. Health is the first requisite after morality. Write to me often, & be assured of the interest I take in your success, as well as the warmth of those sentiments of attachment with which I am, dear Peter, your affectionate friend.

-

It seems that my journey took a drastic shift upon the death of the boy in Zambia and where I found friendship with the owners of the German Restaurant, returning once again in July not only to visit but to pick up a few extra bucks along the way to further travels. I’ve been roaming around with little to no plan, and no real urgency to change the idea. What I don’t want to happen is to turn into one of those 50 year old wrinkled up fellows roaming around this continent with a harem of girls and a story of “how it was so much better 20 years ago”, still with no concrete place to live, constantly jumping from country to country as the visas expire. I’m also becoming quit tiresome of the Couchsurfing/Backpackers/Hostel situations. These people that I’ve met are so warm and welcoming, but at the same time the experience is exhausting and draining where sometimes I just want complete and total silence. I got it in the bush, but missed out on the wanting to speak to people the minute I needed to – and very much missing the concept of having longer term friends where we can laugh about the past in terms of months and years as opposed to the past nights stories. After I pulled the hamstring I decided that I couldn’t go through the routine anymore and actually went and rented a place in Nairobi to live in – It didn’t work out after 4 days due to the landlord overbooking the rentals and I struggled with figuring out what was next in life – did I want to travel while injured, should I go to the beach? What about the book? Well, I did all of it, and ended up back in Nairobi and found yet another place – An old furnished colonial mansion with fibre optic internet, television, and 6 bedrooms which I’m looking to find people to occupy for the steal of a price of $400 USD a month. For now it’s a safe space to rest, go to the gym and get my muscles working properly before I set out again, where to? I’m not sure, but my Congo dreams have been very vivid again, but nothings set in stone. ‘Get the damn book done Dave, and make some friends for some memories, and for gosh sakes, don’t start smoking again’ are the things running through my mind at present. I do have some good stories to tell however about the past 2 months involving drinking blood, going to court along with the usual befriending of strangers, police officers, immigration officers and other shenanigans. I’ll write about those in a few days.

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