16 February - Counting telephone poles

It was 250 kilometres from Medani to Gedaref – the last big outpost before the Ethiopian border. 125 kilometres each day on smooth roads is not a tall ask, but becomes arduous when we include the wind, heat and boredom factors!

The cross wind on the second morning was strong enough that I didn’t cycle with cleats in because the risk of being blown over was so great! With the heavily loaded bike and my backpack acting as a sail, gusts of wind would nearly topple me. However, Grant and Gareth were fast becoming two parallel leaning shapes in the early light, and so I learnt quickly to zigzag across the road using some of the wind and remain vertical!

The heat was oppressive. The thermometer regularly reported over 40 degrees. It dictated a disciplined cycling plan: Up early, cycle ‘til ten, break for 30 minutes, another two hours, and then make sure that you’re off the road for the next three hours... Seriously. We are off the road at the very least from 1pm to 3 pm, and this was often stretched at both ends. We rest at the truck stops that comprise a sheltered area with a Pepsi stall or basic cafeteria, dozens of meshed beds and countless flies.

Boredom. It was a long straight road heading east, an asphalt road that climbed very gradually, but relentlessly. Desert sand thankfully gave way to flat bush veld and thorn trees and the road is lined with shreds of truck tyres each telling a new story. We cycled in single file on the edge of the steep verge. The road was narrow and traffic flew along with no regard for the unscrupulous threesome. Regularly we were forced off the road. A large pink bus, passing at pace, clipped the side of my arm and left me in a state of near hyperventilation – caused by both sheer fright and my screaming obscenities at the driver. It is hairy cycling.

So with no-one to talk to and only flying buses to look out for, I started counting telephone poles. I calculated that there were 6 every kilometre and so, locking my eyes on the sixth pole on the horizon, I would let it pull me over the rises. When you start to count you know that you’re in trouble and Boredom is winning.