Category: Riding Wild in Africa

Having taken my bike across two continents as well as nearly across Europe and across South Korea and Japan, I decided to try something a bit further from my comfort zone. Africa was pretty far out to my mind and so my next two wheeled journey is headed for its center, Livingston and Victoria Falls. 3,000 kilometers of mixed asphalt and dirt roads later I hope to ride high and proud into Cape Town. This blog follows that journey.

How the Buffalo Bike Works in the Real World

Epilogue

If you are one of my friends or family that contributed to my effort to finance at least 10 Buffalo Bikes for some people in Africa, you may be interested in this story. I was able to meet a Buffalo Bike owner and see for myself how they can make a difference in someone’s life.

When I first decided to go to Africa one of the first thoughts to cross my mind was that I was going to be riding through some places where most people struggle to exist every day. Riding in similar places and seeing how in such places, a simple thing, such as a bicycle, could totally change lives. Originally, I was thinking about fixing up a couple of bikes and taking them with me but when I began to look at what would be involved, I realized that doing it that way was far too complicated and loaded with other roadblocks.

Since it is well known how important bicycles are in Third World countries, I began to suspect that there were already organizations doing on a larger scale what I had contemplated as an individual. A brief search uncovered a number of them but the one that stood out was World Bicycle Relief. That organization was founded in 2005 by F.K. Day and Leah Missbach Day in response to the Indian Ocean tsunami. F.K. Day is one of the founders of SRAM, a major manufacturer of bicycle components and an innovator in that field. I figured that if anyone could approach the problem of getting good, durable bicycles to places in the world where they were needed, it would be someone who really understood bicycles. Further investigation proved to me that World Bicycle Relief had an excellent model for doing this in a sustainable way and for being an organization that put nearly all the money they raised through donations into results rather than into marketing and executive salaries.

Through them I learned about the Buffalo Bike, a purpose built bike designed to be strong, easily adaptable for a variety of uses and easy to repair and maintain. Best of all, World Bicycle Relief did not just build a bunch of bikes and give them away, they also created the infrastructure to maintain them and used local workers in the process of building the bikes and distributing them. For every $205 (Canadian) that I could raise, a brand-new Buffalo Bike would find its way to someone who’s life it could change. During my first day of riding in Zambia, I was able to witness this in action.

As I was riding towards the border with Botswana, I passed a young man riding a Buffalo Bike with a large milk can attached to the rear rack. Along the way two others with the exact same set up joined him. We rode together for over an hour and I was able to talk with the one rider who was as much interested in what I was doing as I was with him. I wanted to take his picture but discovered that my newly unpacked camera lacked its battery. Fortunately, I found a story online about how the milk co-operative he was part of used the Buffalo Bike to create a dairy industry in that impoverished part of Zambia. I also found this picture on the Internet of the guy I was riding with.

Small farmers in this area usually only have a few cows or goats that they milk by hand. None are large enough to afford a motor vehicle and the dirt tracks that access their land are not suitable for any truck-based collection system. Each farmer only produces a small amount of milk, maybe enough to fill a 40 L (10 gal.) milk can every day or so. They need to get it to a collection site before it goes bad. It is here that the Buffalo Bike comes into play. The milk co-operative gives the Buffalo Bikes to the farmers who either load the full, 45 kg (100 pound) container onto the back and pedal it themselves to the collection station or have one of their older children do it. Sometimes young men from the community can earn an income by becoming dedicated delivery riders for this purpose. My conversation with one of the young men that I rode with left me with the impression that he was working full time as a two wheel, delivery rider. The farmers sell this milk at the co-operative and receive hard currency that they can use to purchase things that improve their lives. The bike can also be used for other things such as getting to a doctor or to transport a child to school.

The young man I rode with was part of a group of four or five who were making their way to the raw milk collection point that day. They all rode Buffalo Bikes and each carried the large milk can strapped to the heavy duty rear rack, the same as shown in the picture below. We passed each other a number of times during the two-hour window during which I encountered them as I was making my way to our lunch stop just this side of the Botswanan border crossing. With their heavy load and my better gearing, I was easily able to outdistance them going uphill. However, their younger legs and stamina allowed them to easily catch up on the flats. It was quite the experience to see something that my friends and I helped to support being used under real world conditions and to see how a Buffalo Bike changes a life. While I had to cut my ride short, the good work done by the bikes my friends, family and I helped to purchase will continue to pay dividends long after my wheel tracks have disappeared. Thanks to everyone donated and if you would still like to do so, here is the link: powerofbicycles.org/fundraisers/bobpeltzer

The People Who Ride

April 29, 2025

Some Thoughts After My Ride: Part 1

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One thing I have noted on the many long distance rides that I’ve done, is that there are some amazing people and some amazing stories that they bring with them. Retired spies, doctors, millionaires and corporate executives all ride as equals with ordinary people like me. We share stories, help each other through challenges and cheer each other on when the going gets tough. No one acts as though they are above the rest and while we mostly do our own rides at our own pace, we always stop when we see a fellow rider on the side of the road just to make sure they are okay.

In the past I’ve ridden with a Trump attorney, an Exxon executive, numerous medical doctors and professors as well as a drone pilot, an astronomer, a housewife and just about every other type of personal background that you could imagine. What we have in common is a sense of adventure and a desire to see the world from a slow cruise on two wheels. Around an evening meal or campfire we share glimpses into each other’s lives and tell our tales from the trail. I ridden with a woman who was partially eaten by a bear as well as a different woman who had to end her tour when an ox sat on her. One rider had participated in a bicycle race across the USA (he came in around 50th) and another who spent a year and a half as part of the crew in a sailboat race around the world. Quite a few of the people I have ridden with have been in serious accidents only to rise above their injuries and continue to do what they love. I feel privileged to be in such company.

Maybe it is the individual effort of covering great distance under our own muscle power that breaks down the barriers that such differences pose in our regular lives. We share the knowledge that each of us has to work through various aches and pains and overcome the mental walls that we all encounter during especially long riding days or tough riding conditions. Individual backgrounds and status melt away as we ride and when we gather at the end of a ride we do so as equals and with respect for each other.

Friends around the campfire and everything is fine

A Better Class of Rat

April 1, 2025 Part 2

While somme things are the same the world over, some are unique to a specific place. In my part of the world rodents, mainly rats, plague any area where food is available. Here in Windhoek, Namibia, they have a better class of rat, namely, the mongoose. Anyone who has read Rikki-Tikki-Tavi will remember the story of the mongoose protecting the small boy from the deadly cobra. Here the mongoose protects dining guests from slipping on a fallen french fry. As you eat, one or two can be seen sprinting stealthily between the tables grabbing the dropped morsels while avoiding one of the resident cats. Like Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, the mongoose in Kipling’s The Jungle Book, the local variety are harmless to humans and unlike the North American rat, knows well enough to not overstay his welcome.

Disappointing Downtown and God’s Taxi

April 1, 2025

With a day to enjoy what Windhoek has to offer I set out after breakfast with some of my cycling companions for a 30 minute walk to a nearby mall to exchange some money into the local fare. A mall in Windhoek is about the same as a mall in the US or Canada; throw a rock in any direction and you have good odds on hitting a clothing store. Some have some interesting names that play on the more famous brands. Here I could visit Old Kakai, The Seattle Coffee Company and Woolworths, a store selling woolen fashions. It was a nice enough mall but not really something I was interested in other than to find the money exchange. Here I was able to become fantastically wealthy by exchanging 200 Botswanian pula plus 50 US dollars into a whopping 1,375 Namibian dollars! More riches than King Midas.

I decided to visit an Art and Crafts center in the downtown area and the map showed some other things of interest such as a zoo. I depleted my fortune by NB 40 (about $4.00 Canadian including a tip) for a taxi ride downtown and had to allow the driver to use my phone for directions as he seemed unsure of the way.

Downtown was disappointing. It was dirty and the arts and craft center was a single row of stalls along a half block section of the sidewalk, each displaying nearly the same collection of bracelets and carvings that you could find nearly anywhere. Of course it had the added ambiance of each and every vendor beging you to stop and take a closer look. One pass through of that gauntlet was enough.

The “zoo” was nothing more than a run down park crowded with young men standing around in the shade of some very large trees and nothing more. There were also well guarded shopping malls featuring the same array of stores I had seen earlier. I gave the area about an hour and a half of walking around before hailing a taxi for a ride back to the lodge.

It was at this point that I flagged down God’s Taxi. From the outside it was much the same as the busy fleet of vehicles that are everywhere downtown. No brands like Yellow or Capital but instead, fully licensed and well marked vehicles of nearly every type and color. My taxi was a well worn Honda Fit but once inside it was different from any other taxi I’ve experienced. The driver had a taste for loud church choir music, sung in the native Namibian language and to the tune of old German hymns accompanied with a one tempo organ playing a maximum of five notes. The driver occasionally sang along as we whipped through traffic and pausing only to cut off a pedestrian trying to cross the street or to pick up or discharge another paying fare along the way. My fare for this journey was NB 59 ($5 Canadian). I gave him NB 60 and being the sport that I am, told him to keep the change.

Windhoek

April 16, 2025

Scene from the bus window

No riding today for any of the group. The road from where we stayed last night to Windhoek is just too dangerous. Our bikes were loaded onto the various TdA vehicles and the human cargo was bundled into a very cramped mini bus for the two hour or so ride into the city. In the event of an accident we were tightly enough backed that seatbelts were not required to hold us in our seats in the event of an accident.

Outdoor furniture shop in Windhoek

Windhoek is the capital of Namibia as well as its largest city. We are staying just outside of the metro area at a very nice place called Arebusch Lodge. TdA, the tour organizer, pays for camping sites for the cyclist but many of us have taken the option of paying for an actual room at our own expense. Count me among that group. With a tent to dry out and repack, a bike to box up for the flight and gear to reapportion in checked and carry-on bags, I wanted a roof and the creature comforts that come with it.

Shortly after 3 pm I had my bike boxed, my room was ready and I was ready for a beer and some relaxation. Tomorrow I just need to find an ATM for some cash to pay the taxi driver for my trip to the airport on Saturday and to see Colleen, the tour leader, with some money to be given as tips to the crew that got me from Livingston to here.

Gong Out With a Bang

April 15, 2025

My last riding day before Windhoek, boxing up my bike and killing time before my Friday flight home, began with a thunderclap. This followed the lightning strikes and driving rain as I wheeled my bike to the highway for the 118 kilometer ride to our next campsite. At times the headwinds made progress dwindle to near zero and the rain stung the sunburnt areas of my neck and face. This continued for the first hour of riding until settling in for a steady drizzle in hour two. This was followed by mixed sunshine and a steady headwind with occasional strong gusts. Every kilometer seemed like an uphill grind. Lunch stop came at kilometer 85 and I was never so glad to see it.

The rest of the ride went better with only some heavy traffic to contend with as I passed through the busy town of Gobabiis. Tonight is my last camping night and I am hoping for it to be dry but I hear the rumble of thunder in the distance. I’ll have to settle for thinking dry thoughts while nursing a wet beer and watching an unusual turtle work his way past me.

Arriving in Namibia

April 14, 2025

It is always an adventure crossing a border. Many places you need an exit stamp from one country before getting your entry stamp from the next. We crossed from Botswana to Namibia at the Transkalahari Border Post. It has been under construction for the past three years and combines Botswana’s exit customs with Namibia’s Customs and immigration in a single building. It being a construction site and my Ride With GPS telling me to stay right, I went past an unmarked, police check point to my left upsetting the local constabulary. Once they realized I was just a stupid white guy on a bike they were quite understanding and directed me to the correct building.

This was an easy day’s ride but it was not scheduled to be. The route called for 216 kilometers of riding but given the physical issues I was dealing with I decided to take the offered ride in the dinner truck for a good part of the way. My legs and endurance would have been up to the task but I was afraid my saddle sore was not. Rather than tie up one of the support vehicles just to prove something to myself, I took the easy way.

Once across the border and after filling out all the same paperwork I did online to comply with their newly minted e-visa requirements, I was free to head the final kilometer to our evening campsite. Nearby I found a store where I was able to continue my tradition of finding strangely flavoured potato chips. This they were KFC Original Recipe, chicken flavoured chips. Just tasted salty to me.

Tough Choices

April 11, 2025

You may wonder about the infrequency of my posts this trip. Primarily, this is because it is difficult to have a strong enough internet connection to make posts to the blog. However, there is a second reason.

This trip is far harder and far less scenic than my past adventures. Africa has some beautiful places just not along the the roads I have been traveling. Added to that is a fair degree of physical discomfort that I have never experienced on my previous adventures. Saddle sores are virtually unknown to me but the rough roads coupled with a degree of heat I have not yet become accustomed to have produced some very uncomfortable rides. The scenery is nice enough but much the same over the past 600 kilometers. Additionally, the riding distances some days are leaving me exhausted and sore, something that I have never felt on other trips except for one or two isolated incidents.

There is very little wildlife to see other than domesticated cattle, goats and the occasional donkey. Overall, the scenery combined with the heat and my body issues is making for a miserable experience instead of the joyful highs of my other adventures. For these and other reasons, I am going to do something I’ve never contemplated before; quit a trip before the finish line.

It is not an easy decision to make and I’ve tossed it over many times in my mind over the past few days. The problem is not with the tour company, TdA Global Cycling. They are top notch and the best in the business. The staff have done everything possible to help me along and I only have praise for their efforts to keep me rolling. I have done two other tours with this company and loved both of them. However, this time I am joining a tour that has already been rolling for over two months with riders already hardened to the distances and conditions. Coming into the heat and grind from a Canadian winter with a 73 year old body, that while physically able, just doesn’t seem to adapt fast enough despite trying my best to train hard over the winter.

The deciding factor for me was that one of the hardest sections of the trip lay just a few days ahead: the rough roads of Namibia. Even though Namibia is reputed to be one of the most beautiful sections of the trip, the roads are the worst. There is very little pavement and unpaved surface is a mix of wash-boarded gravel and loose sand. After all, it is a desert. 100 kilometer plus days riding those roads with a sore bum is a discouraging thought. It will also be very hot and with no shade, even at the campsites in the evening. I’ve done desert riding in both the southwest USA and Australia but I was a bit younger on those two trips and the daily distances were shorter. I could see no joy in this and I’ve nothing to prove to myself by enduring it.

All of the above might let you know what a difficult and emotional decision this has been for me. Please don’t let it discourage you from trying Africa if you are interested. Africa is a continent and not a country and I have only ridden a tiny part of it. Maybe had I tried this when I was younger or started at the beginning, this would be a different tale. As it is I can look forward to returning home with some good experiences and I can add another continent to my list of places where I’ve ridden my bicycle. One bright spot in this is that I will be back to my home and with my loving wife and family all the sooner.

Will I venture forth again into places unknown to me? The answer is not clear at the moment. Another month long ride is not particularly appealing at this moment but shorter adventures will definitely happen so long as I am able. At my age, each year brings new challenges but my spirit will push on.

Bob Peltzer, writing in Maun, Botswana. April 11, 2025. Still 624 kilometers from the shortened end of my ride.

Very Long Distance Rider

April 9, 2025

Allow me to introduce Lorenzo, a very long distance cyclist from Portugal. After finishing his degree in Psychology and against the advice of his parents, he elected to embark on a year and half long journey to discover Africa. He is doing this on a ten Euro a day budget and is completely on his own. We met at a bush camping spot a day’s ride east of Maun and right after a heavy thunderstorm. He was invited to share dinner with us.

It takes an epic amount of courage and grit to do what he is doing. With only his abilities and wits to sustain him, he has progressed from his home, across the Strait of Gibraltar by ferry to Morocco and down through countries most of us, especially me, would fear to ride through without an armed escort. Often he stealth camps asking permission when he can and just pitching his tent when not. His plans are to visit every country or do his best to try to. He has faced conflict areas and closed borders and still he rolls on. His conversations made for an interesting evening after a long, wet day. We fed him breakfast the next morning and wished him health and happiness over his many miles to go.

On the Range

April 8, 2025

Riders of a different sort.

While I am riding on the Elephant Highway, elephants are far from the sort of animal life I am seeing. While they are definitely here, as proven by the piles of dung I have to zig-zag around, this primarily appears to be ranch country. Cattle, goats, horses and donkeys are far more likely to be seen. The cattle are basically free range, occasionally blocking the highway and not particularly interested in moving aside for a cyclist. However, the sound of car tires on pavement a kilometer away usually sends them hustling off onto the wide grassy sidelines.

Other than farm animals, there is abundant insect life here and they often like to hitch a ride.