Considering the activities on yesterday, I had a pretty decent night’s rest. While a few loud trucks came hurtling by, I didn’t have to run as I thought I may have to. But, that all changed the moment I had brekkie… my body just didn’t like that!
I rolled over and tried to rest a bit, but cramps kept me from finding a comfy position. So I decided to try pack up and head off, but I didn’t have the energy to pack my sleeping bag away, never mind pack up camp and walk.
More pills went in and a few rehydration drinks and I slowly felt ok enough to get going – but it was tough! First thing I noticed when moving was that my speed seldom reached 5km/h – way down from recent speeds. A clear sign something was wrong was when I check my heart-rate… a good 20bpm higher than usual. Not good!
But I wanted to make some progress and stage myself closer to a water resupply as I couldn’t just lie there and consume water, as levels wouldn’t allow it.
I ate rusk on the go – bad idea! I drank some Oros – also a bad idea. And then I saw a Coke sign… that always works for me, so I was gonna push for that. And I’m just glad I made it there without any further ’emergencies’.
I enjoyed an ice cold drink and the aircon, chatting with the staff and slowly settling my body. I decided I’d tried stay the night, as my body just wasn’t up to moving and I could feel it wouldn’t like anymore distance. While I only had 12 km under the belt for the day, it seemed the right thing to do.
And then I heard the news: bikers were coming through. ‘Oh dear’ was my first thought, but then I heard they were a peaceful crowd. Ok! And they were right… they were a pretty peaceful bunch, just enjoying the opportunity to ride in a group and spend time with likeminded people.
Of course, I got a million questions thrown my way… and then, the one I was kinda dreading… ‘can we show you how fast you could get to Beit Bridge?’
My answer was, naturally, yes!
After a few pointers of what to do and what not to, I was on the back of a bike and racing down the N12 at speed. We stopped and turned, not more than 2 km from the pub. I was told to look his shoulder and keep an eye on the speedometer… it rose QUICKLY, as did the nose of the bike. 180… 190… 200… 210… 220… 230… 240… 250… 251 km/h was what I saw, possibly a little over.
Next thing we were back and stopped. From standstill to 251 km/h to standstill in under 2 km – damn!
They were braaiing and I was offered some steak and wors, which I ate – and somehow it went down well and stayed in. Weird! Slowly they filtered out and I eventually headed for bed, having been offered a room for the night.
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