The Epic Bike Ride

Last week two of my American friends from Ethiopia began a bike ride from here down to South Africa.  They are planning to bike for about eight months, and while I could never finish that journey; I did decide to join them for a day of riding, which was more than enough for me.  I took the bus to Bahir Dar one evening and the next morning we set out on the 50-mile ride back to Dangila.  It seemed like there were more literal and figurative “ups and down” during that six-hour bike ride than in all of my Peace Corps experiences so far!

We woke at 6 AM, ate some bananas with peanut butter, and we were cycling out of Bahir Dar by 7:30 AM.  With Nicole and Josh’s bikes weighed down with stuff, they would fly downhill, but drag uphill, so we just decided to go at our own pace and we would break about every ten miles to catch up and rest.  Well, it didn’t take me long to realize I was out of shape.  Meaning I was quite a bit behind them, but it was fun just doing my own thing and catching up with them at our rest stops.  About every ten miles, there is a town, so we would tend to stop right outside a town, on the far side, trying to avoid large crowds of people.

I was doing fine for the first 10-mile leg, which took just over one hour. The second leg was about 13 miles, bringing us almost to the halfway mark in another hour.  In the beginning, near Bahir Dar, the kids were ridiculous.  Every time you passed kids they’d yell, asking for money.  If you were going slowly uphill they would run beside you asking for money.  By the first break I thought kids simply yelling “you you you!” were polite as opposed to the “money money money!” or running along side yelling “Birr sichine” (“Give me Birr”).

At the halfway point, I was feeling good.  It did start to set in how crazy I was for doing a 50-mile ride when I haven’t ridden a bike more than a few miles in years.  Still, I was feeling good.  Well, in the third leg there were a lot more “ups” than “downs” – lots of gradual slopes that I thought would never end.  One town was slightly down hill and as I passed by rather speedily some man ran up to the road, screaming something and insisted on handing me a piece of fruit, which made me laugh.  It either was a very large lemon or very yellow orange.  Every instance like that would make up for the rude kids yelling and throwing things.  You’d get past the most annoying group of kids and before long you would greet a cute little kid with “Selam” and they would just have this huge adorable smile and greet you in return, making up for the troublemakers.  You never knew what was around the next corner!

There is about 250 meters in elevation change between BD and Dangila, but with lots of down hills too, we climbed quite a bit.  Right at the end of the third leg (our longest at about 14 miles), as I approached the edge of a town and crested a small uphill, I spotted a large hill and I knew I was in trouble.  I was exhausted; it must have been right around mile 37, and I would have given anything to just give up.  I was dehydrated, sun-drained, exhausted, my legs were shaking; I was on the edge of tears.  I finally got off my bike right in the middle of the big hill after watching a car pass me and crest the hill, making me realize how much farther up I had to go.  I’m sure that it isn’t that big of a hill, but in my memory it will always be massive!  I got off the bike, while rural people walking past stared and gossiped in Ahmaric. I refilled my empty bottle, threw in a Gatorade packet, and started walking for about ten minutes.  Finally, I decided to ride the rest of the hill and luckily right over the crest, beneath the only tree in sight, Nicole and Josh were waiting for me.

I guess I didn’t look as exhausted as I felt because they weren’t concerned about me or my disappearance, in fact they agreed that was a really hard section.  I downed another half-liter with another Gatorade packet, finished the trail mix I’d brought and knew I was going to finish this thing.  Approaching that pit stop, I wasn’t so sure, but Nicole and Josh were so motivating that I got a second wind.  I also knew I’d just passed through Derebete – the town before Dangila, so with just ten miles left, so close to home, I couldn’t give up and flag down a minibus – I had to finish.  We started again and I just told myself to take it slow, “Kes be Kes” (slowly by slowly).  Before too long, after conquering another couple of hills, I recognized the landscape and I knew I was on the edge of town.  I’d made it!!!  People started yelling “Jennifer” instead of “ferengi” and I’d never been so happy to be in Dangila.

I knew I was looking good too because along the way sometime the “Birr Sichines” turned into “Birr Sitines” – the masculine form of “Give me money.”  I got a few “ayzoshs” along the way too, meaning “be brave” and surely enough I got the masculine form of that too sometime along the way, “ayezoh.”  Nevertheless, at the end of the day, I was so proud of what I accomplished.

Almost exactly six hours later, around 1:30 PM, we arrived at my house.  Phew!!  I realized my absolute love-hate relationship with both Ethiopia and exercise.  Kids yelled, screamed, threw dirt, threw rocks!  One teenager even threw a rock (he should know better)!  A little naked child grabbed one of Nicole’s bags and pulled right in the middle of the final big hill!  But I also got to see the beauty of the Ethiopian countryside, and there were some great people along the way (like my orange/lemon guy)!  There were children with huge smiles that didn’t yell for money, who would just warm your heart.  Overall, it was a great journey.  Would I do it a second time?  Probably not, but I’m so glad I did it that once.  Kind of like I feel about the Peace Corps experience in general.  Some days are filled with little naked children who throw rocks at you, but you never know if the next truck that passes is filled with camels and just makes you smile.  Along the way, I will need breaks to get away, and at some point I might feel like giving up, but I want to make it to the end.  I’m so glad, so thankful, for this journey.