Puncture Problems

Puncture Problems
Posted on: Wednesday, March 12th, 2014 at 4:16pm

51 – That’s the amount of punctures I’ve gone through in my time in Namibia. Looking at my stats and knowing what I have left before I cross into Angola I’ll have traveled just shy of 4600km. That’s one every 90km if we were to do the math, an often depressing thought each morning as I peer outside the tent to see if there is still air in the tires. I left Zambia with 5 spare tubes, and 5 spare patch kits (10 per), and now resorted to using motorcycle patches that I luckily found in the shops. Some of the patch kits didn’t seal properly, and worse, I’m getting double punctures when on rocky roads. The tubes that I’m using from MEC.CA just aren’t thick enough to handle the weight and constant jostling around, and my theory is that since I’m using foldable tires with no wire bead that they tires themselves are bending and causing a collapse of the tube on the inside. I need to invest in much more heavier duty tubes, like the Schwalbe series, whenever I can receive mail again. Finding replacement tubes in Africa is a crapshoot – Either too small (20 inch tires?) or they use the wrong valve – The Gates valve that operates similar to a Presta. Of course my pump doesn’t work with them and it becomes a frustrating exercise trying to find someone with a pump to inflate them. So I’ll stock up on more Rema German motorcycle patches before I leave and hope that I find better success in Angola.

The thorns and broken glass in Namibia is causing the majority of the flats, little goat head thorns that look like small mace balls find themselves attached onto the tread of the tire. When you roll over them, they penetrate even the thickest of tires that I use. I went as far as taping the insides of the tires with Gorilla Tape, but still suffer from the shifting tire syndrome. Oh well, this is Bicycle Touring at its finest.

I’ve moved quite the distance since Windhoek, heading back north on the same road for 350km, wind this time shifted from the south to the North equating to a headwind on this very challenging stretch with no shoulders, thorns, and a considerable amount of moving truck. Huge amounts of rain would come down from 3pm (17mm, 25mm, and higher) finding me huddled under a tree waiting for it to pass, riding another 30km when it had completed to dry myself off. On one of these days round 2 of a rainstorm was on its way and I found a fellow waiting at the side of the road. He insisted that I take a lift just past the storm so that I could remain dry for the night, with it quickly evolving into that I could have a warm bed to sleep in. Faced with the thoughts of remaining “pure” in my african travels where I don’t want to take lifts, I obliged and caught the last 30km of the day into Otavi – an area that I’ve passed through before. If it was somewhere that I hadn’t travelled to I would have likely stuck out my bottom lip, and moved forward politely declining his offer, but since I’d been there, the scenery was the exact same just in reverse, why not.

You’ll find tens of thousands of these things on the roads when travelling north of Windhoek to a place called Otjiwarngo. Locusts are what people are telling me, they are cannibalistic – Cars run over them, and they run onto the road to eat the smushed remains of their peers, until of course their fate is met a short time later. Quite large, 2 inches I would say.

I was in a toilet and found this thing next to the door frame the night before, thinking it was a twig. It’s some sort of insect. Look at the size of it! My shoes are Size 12.

As usual, meeting strangers is a healthy experience. I showed him some tricks with his Garmin GPS – mostly based on that article I wrote a few weeks ago, and he offered some great areas to visit in Namibia away from my straight lined path to the Angolan border. Well worth it, and was glad to keep him company. He had just gone through a divorce, lost his kids during the week, and was looking to get back on his feet, and I think a random scraggly traveler passing through just brightened his day that much more – rekindling some ideas on moving around on his motorcycle around the country.

The next town north, Tsumeb I spent 3 days resting, well needed after the 350km of headwinds and white knuckled riding. One night I found myself at a campsite with an Olympic Sized pool, but after that met up with a contact who I’d been communicating with about Angola for a few weeks. Nigel Francis, an Ex Tour De France’r, Ironman competitor and so much more moved to the area 3 years prior and created an organization known as Multisport Africa, where him and his wife spend their time aiding lesser privileged children in various communities around Namibia. You might have heard about BEN – a group involved with distribution of bicycles, and ambulances powered only by pedals for communities far out of reach – this is something very similar. In fact, BEN has now folded and Nigel has taken over a lot of the main functions. His vision is to see Bicycles become more commonplace in Namibia for travel throughout communities, and puts containers selling ready built bicycles, spare parts, and other community building services together. Instead of organizations like WBR – the World Bicycle Relief/Buffalo Bicycles who sell new bikes, Nigel has contacts where he is able to import old bikes from the western world, trains his staff in mechanics and other business functions, refurbishes them and either sells them or donates them. I took a look at his newly occupied warehouse at some of the bicycles this time all from Canada by a group called Bicycles 4 Humanity. I found Norco’s, Supercycles from my era of riding bicycles in the late 1980s, and then a bunch of more international brands. Some of the bicycles were virtually brand new! Either outgrown or cast off to make way for the video game consoles and such. Some of the parts lurking on the bicycles were quite high end, Shimano XTR derailleurs and Brake Assemblies, and a considerable amount of downhill/mountain bikes with shocks – great for people who are in some of the more remote areas living on either a ‘C’ or a ‘D’ road in this country. I made a commitment to return here in the future and assist them with setting up a computer based accounting/inventory system and a small Internet Café environment using code that I’ve already implemented in the past for his vision to see light of day.

Tsumeb Bicycles for Humanity Bicycle Empowerment Program

The Arts performance center in Tsumeb is a non profit, privately funded centre teaching children how to use different instruments, harps, mandolins, and this, the Marimba.

I found myself presenting to 20 odd people back at the campsite with the mega-pool over the weekend, mostly the attendance were children from De Voortrekkers, an outdoor skills based group similar to say what the scouts/brownies would be like back in Canada. Since I still don’t have my laptop back (5 months! Never buy ASUS!) I had to scramble to put together pieces from presentations that existed as far as 4 years back. The latest one I’ve been using is a bit too much for this temporary notebook I’ve been loaned. As with most things that I do, a lot of them are just testing grounds for learning, so this new one spitting out multiple streams of 1080p video at high frame rates synced up with a small application I built on a phone will be on the back burner for a while until I can sort out this hardware problem. I ended the day with a favourite, and I’m calling this the 1st annual Tsumeb Strongman competition. Most people don’t realize how heavy this bicycle is when it’s fully loaded. It’s a great group experience when around boys and men and even girls to see if they can hoist the bicycle in the air. Everyone wants to try it as soon as one does, which draws cheers and applause from their peers.

Tsumeb 1st Annual Strongman Competition

De Voortrekkers all having a photo after a Presentation. I’m in fine fashion with mismatched socks.

An offer came my way at the end of the presentation. Did I want to go to South Africa that week to go and participate in the Cape Argus Bicycle Ride? A 108km loop around Cape Town and surrounding communities along with near 40,000 other contestants? it’s the largest timed Bicycle ride in the world and I found myself staying an extra day to analyze the situation. I’d be sitting for 3 days before getting the ride down to South Africa, riding for only one day, and then waiting for another 3 days. Even though the ride, lodging and race costs would have been taken care of, I’d still find myself spending money that has gone from careful spending to bare minimum due to my theft a few weeks back. As much as it would have been nice to ride the race, see some old friends and storm into the ASUS South Africa offices demanding my laptop back, I found myself back on the road, eager to keep my momentum. Because of that, the winds shifted, the temperatures remained cool with no rain, and I was making 120km easy in one day with lots of hours to spare to meet people, rest, have a beer, whatever (fixing punctures).

Once you pass the livestock fence (the Red Fence) things really slow down, and become that much more friendlier in the country. Little to no white people, and traffic remains minimal. I quite enjoyed the previous time in the North a few weeks back and this was exactly what I was after, as I mentally psyched myself up for the next country. Namibia seems to have it all, water, mountains, extreme desert, scenery, wild animals, friendly people, huge beers. It’s no wonder why this country is filled with tourists from April – November each year. Now the few tourists I see are on their own long term mission, like the fellow who’s been moving for 9 years around the world in his huge man truck. No cyclists though in sight, although I keep hearing rumors about an older fellow ahead of me. When I queried the last person it turns out he was talking about me (who, me? old?) as he had noticed me the day before. Sadly though in the north, what were once campsites in cities have now been closed down, making it challenging to find a place to stay when all you really want is water, power, and a shower. After 5 days of not having a shower and wasting 4 hours looking for a room that was less than $50 USD I moved out of a town, sitting at a rest stop trying to analyze my situation. I had let my GPS batteries die down by accident the night before, which put strain on my other electronic components, killing my cache battery. Charging that battery is the most efficient to distribute power to my other components, but that would take near 13 hours of pedalling or more to get it up to speed. With 3% on my phone, 10% on my GPS, speakers long gone I met a fellow in a trench coat and huge white boots waving his arms like Jesus on the road to drivers passing. He explained that life became too crazy for him as a security guard in the big city, and moved back home to where he was born, and now raised cattle and goats with his wife. While he had no power or water at his place, he ran a Shebeen in the village off the highway that had power and we could go there, charge my stuff for 2 hours, have a beer and come back home. I wasn’t really in the mood for people or storytelling that night, but why not. It turned out great, to have been invited into the chief’s homestead and meeting many members of the community until darkness.

A very impressive man truck. Traveling 9 years around the world.

Realizing I had made a wrong turn at the last town I struggled with turning back for the 5km to get on the right road, and decided to just keep going Northwest. It was worth it. Huge Shops, Fast internet service, and one of my Facebook readers tipped me off to a campsite in the area that offered everything I was after under the world’s largest Baobab Tree! Noone really knows how old this tree is, some say 1000 years, some say 2000 or more, but one thing is for sure – it is HUGE. Big enough to have been used throughout the past 100 years as a post office. Big enough to be used as a Church. Big enough to be used as a Prison when South Africa was battling Angola! It’s turned into a Heritage site since 1994 and thankfully the vandalism has stopped from people carving their names into it. With the campsite offering power and a shower I was in bliss, soothed to sleep by the roar of the tree leaves moving when a storm passed through. A picture does not explain the sheer size of this thing.

Tree / Bike Size Comparison – The largest Baobab Tree in the world

Now designated as a Heritage site, there are no more carvings. This is the door inside.

Inside – Once a shop, a Post Office, a Church, and even a prison.

Being only 50km away from the Angolan border at this point I opted to take a side trip since I had a chance to reset my power and shower situation. I’d have to head south 40km to get onto the road I originally planned on travelling on, and then it was a long 2 day haul through the hot desert to where the tar road ended. Opuwo is where the start of Kayaokoland is, most well known for one of the last of the tribes remaining in Africa who still dress in cloths around their nether region, but little more. To protect themselves from the hot desert sun that goes much higher than 40 degrees, each day they rub themselves with Red Ochre and Animal fat – Take that Coppertone! I wanted to ride through these areas, where the population is so sparse they have it listed as one person per 2 kilometres. Now, I guess you are wondering where are the pictures of the naked ladies! I opted not even to take a single picture of these tribesmen, finding myself battling with the concept of being a gawking tourist, or an individual who wanted to fit in. Some things are just best to be seen.

The last of the tar road before entering Kayaokoland / Himba territory

Naturally, I didn’t follow directions. The Himba Gravesites.

Going into this territory also means that I would find myself back on the dirt roads – losing the ability to find services for 200km, at the mercy of the weather and having to figure out a way to get out of a situation if arose. No cellular service whatsoever, no _nothing_ to be honest, only breathtaking views, a graded surface (there are waterfalls in the area that are quite popular with the tourists hence its good condition) and lots of spots to sit and relax to get away from the hot sun. I wasn’t interested in the waterfalls, and took the road which would get me back closer to where I started my 400km loop. Still the roads were in good condition, as I descended from 1400metres to 700 metres along the way. 40km of the way in things started getting weird. Many hills, dips in the road which were actual sand instead of packed roads. Rainy Season hasn’t come in its full force quite yet, and it was obvious these were overflow channels put forth by the river in previous years. Not a problem, just race as fast as possible down the hill through the sand, while keeping the bike from falling over as it fishtails over the surface and up the next hill. Some of them even had bits of water remaining, or the sand was a sticky mess, attaching onto my boots and bicycle frame. One was the actual river itself. Looking fairly shallow, I had been warned by a local the day before that if I was to cross the river to check first, and to follow the other tire tracks, as if I didn’t there would be a sharp drop on the other side. Keeping this in mind I checked rudimentarily and found an area where the water was minimal. By the fourth step my boots had sunk into the sand, and I was beginning to sink deeper. Pulling myself out by gripping my frame brought me out but the bicycle deep into the sand as I moved forward slowly, with the entire footing giving way, and I found myself up to chest high deep water. My panniers were fully submerged, yet the bicycle was standing straight up still due to the sand and I found myself completely under water, adrenaline kicking in and hurling myself and the bicycle as fast as possible out of the water on the other side, slowly getting it up the steep hill so I could remove my boots, wring out my socks, and check for damage on the bicycle and its contents. If you can believe it, after 5 years of these Ortlieb Panniers, filled with holes, taped up with tape, worn so thin you can see sunlight through them, everything stayed dry! I would have been sunk (ha) if the water had penetrated my electronics or paperwork bags. I decided to call it the end of a day, only moving 10 more km to find a nice spot before the sun went down to attempt to clean myself. With little water to spare I had to brush the sand out of my clothes and body slowly, not getting nearly half of it all making for a gritty evening in a sleeping bag. I was still pulling sand out my armpits and balls 2 days later.

Riding became that much heavier with muddy boots

Some days provided flat surfaces, great tail winds and minimal clouds. Excellent riding conditions. Picture is out of sync to story paragraphing :)

Minor River Crossing

Bigger River Crossing – Looks can be deceiving, I went chest deep!

With a mere 45km on the dirt road to go before I was to find tar again my spirits were lifted when I found a deluxe lodge nestled alongside the Angolan/Namibia border on the Kunene river. There I was able to luckily refill my water bottles and grab a coffee to mark the end of my offroad experience. On the map I was seeing signs of “Bad Road” “Often Flooded” and “Do not Pass”. Cars made it, so why couldn’t I? I knew that the final day was going to be the most challenging based on my Elevation Chart and Distance Maps but didn’t quite understand the magnitude of it until well into it. 5 double punctures, one blown fresh new tube, rims sizzling from the heat from having to lock the breaks while descending 12% grade rocky hills, and worse, having to climb them. 11 hours it took for the 45km where I was near losing my mind, telling myself that I had to make it through the area or face dehydration in the 40+ temperatures. With no shade other than thorn trees it made for challenging moments when trying to repeatedly fix the punctures, worse when it was on a steep embankment. I could see a dam less than 3 kilometres away, but didn’t want to risk moving a fully loaded bike down a hill with a puncture. My last spare tube didn’t explode from the heat this time around and I stopped at a vacant campsite known as Hippo Pools where there was solar powered hot water still running. Final Challenge, was the crocodiles that were roaming the area looking for food. I climbed onto a structure and pitched my tent there to avoid any surprises. After 2 days of getting repeatedly waterlogged feet from the multiple river crossings, sapped energy from moving for 8 days straight without a rest often hitting 100km+ daily that was the last thing I needed. Tar road was a mere 300metres from the campsite the next morning, and as I passed Ruacana falls I climbed 500metres in 10km back to higher ground.

Budgeting be damned – I stopped for 2 days and sprung for a room rather than sleeping inside of a tent to prepare for my next challenge. A new country. A foreign language. Much more restrictive laws on movements, and the need to put my bicycle back together. I ended up bending one of my large 1.5litre water bottle cages so much bottles were falling out, my whole drive train and brakes were caked with mud and my clothes stunk like someone who had been moving 8 days through rivers. Sadly, this is the last town I will see in Namibia, with a fairly minimal selection of food, I was hoping to stock up on some of my favorites before leaving from the many mega stores, but that’s the way it goes. This is Bicycle Touring. Never assume, expect the unexpected. Namibia has a huge opportunity in turning it into a Bicycle Touring Destination for those wishing to go on midsize length trips of 3 weeks or more to either the south or the north of the country. It’s ridiculously safe, amenities are virtually everywhere, and for anyone who wants to go off the main routes and seek adventure, it certainly awaits. It has my mind thinking about the future, perhaps leading people around paired up with the MultSport Africa team visiting small communities, assisting in some way before a group of tourists from different parts of the world move forward onto the next destination. It’s been years since I’ve been in the South of Namibia, and it is no different for the scenery and ruggedness. Some of those roads nearly flat out killed me, with its lack of population (recall Namibia being the 2nd most desolate country in the world!), sparse water and of course, those thorns. But around every corner is a reward. Am glad I returned back to this country for another go – this time cycling solo. It’s the African Country I’ve cycled the most distance in by a huge stretch – Namibia being 4600km, Zambia coming in 2nd at 2537km, and Tanzania a close third at 2272km. That’s an awful lot of distance for each country – I’ve just noticed as well that I’ve crossed over the 20,000km mark in Africa alone. Near double the amount that I had originally intended. With probably a year left to go we’ll see what that actual number turns out to be.

Ruacana Dam

The chestexploder. 500metres in 10km.

Well tired Selfie.

Elevation Chart

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