Cycle Touring Maintenance Essentials

Helen Lloyd    Helen Lloyd     cycling, Helen, maintenance, take on africa, toothbrush

The Toothbrush

No I’m not talking about twice-a-day cleaning your pearly whites. I’m talking about caring for your bike.

For my current cycle tour from the UK to Cape Town, I have in my panniers all manner of spare parts and tools for on the road repairs and maintenance.
There’s one piece of equipment I have used more frequently than any other:

It’s a toothbrush.

Many of the roads I’m travelling are dusty. The dust fills the air when vehicles pass. I create my own little orange clouds from my bike tyres. This dust settles on everything; on you and your bike. Ok, so you end up looking filthy, but you can still pedal. The bike on the other hand doesn’t fare so well. The dust clogs the chain and it’s not long before the bike is creaking and groaning in response.

Oiling the chain only makes more dust congeal. You have to clean the chain properly and remove all the dirt. The best way I have found to do this is with an old toothbrush.

A toothbrush is the perfect size to get in-between the individual chain segments and clear the dirt and dust away. It’s lightweight and takes up next to no space, which are two important requirements for any cycle-touring equipment. It’s also very cheap and can be bought anywhere. It takes less than a minute.

You don’t have to be cycling on Africa’s dusty roads to take full advantage of the toothbrush either. You can use it whenever you clean your bike – whether that’s during a regular clean while on tour or after a particularly muddy mountain bike ride on the trails back home. All you have to do is let the mud or dirt dry and use the toothbrush to dust it off. Only then can you get out the lubricant and give it a good oil.

The toothbrush can also be used to easily reach the dirt in those hard to get to parts of the bike. It can also be used to smooth oil finely over the entirety of the chain. Too much oil on the chain is wasteful and only exacerbates the problem of dust clogging.

Other Essentials

A rag: For cleaning the rest of the bike, any old piece of cloth can be used. Together with the toothbrush it’s all you really need besides a supply of water.

Oil: For lubricating the chain and preventing rust

Multi-tool: For making adjustments, tightening loose parts and general repairs. A complete multi-tool should have a set of hex wrenches (Allen keys), screw drivers and box end wrenches (ring spanners), tyre levers and a spoke key. It may not be as easy to use as individual tools, but it’s compact size and weight make it perfect for cycle touring, or even taking with you on the trails.

Puncture Repair Kit and Pump: Punctures are inevitable, it’s just a matter of when it will happen. You’ll need to be able to remove the tyre (using the tyre levers from the multi-tool), repair the whole in the inner tube and re-inflate the tyre.

Duct tape and Cable Ties: For everything else. A little imagination may sometimes be needed, but almost any other problem can be solved with the use of either duct tape, cables ties or both.

Useful online resources:
Park Tools: With excellent step-by-step guides for all bike maintenance and repairs
(http://www.parktool.com/repair/index.asp)

Topeak: This company produce an excellent range of multi-tools, including their ‘Alien’ series
(http://www.topeak.com/products/Tools)

A 10 Month Take On Africa By Numbers

Helen Lloyd    Helen Lloyd     cycling, Helen, statistics, take on africa

Over ten months ago I left the UK to cycle to Cape Town. Ten months has taken me to Accra in Ghana. It’s been a fantastic journey so far. Here are a few stats from the trip to date…

Days since leaving the UK: 305
Nights spent in Africa: 253
Nights spent in Africa without paying for accommodation: 146
Days spent cycling: 151
Number of days cycling alone (on this ‘solo’ adventure): 57
Most consecutive days without using the bike: 24

Kilometres cycled: 12,580
Kilometres paddled: 350

Average daily distance cycled (cycling days only) in kilometres: 83
Average daily distance cycled (rest days included) in kilometres: 41

Number of countries travelled through: 13
Number of times I have crossed the Guinean border (legally or otherwise): 8

Most kilometres cycled in one day: 178
Biggest hill cycled up: 1609m
Maximum recorded temperature I have cycled in, in Fahrenheit: 111
Top speed in kilometres per hour: 64

Most consecutive days without a shower: 15
Most consecutive days wearing the same bike shorts without washing them: 12
Number of hot showers in Africa: 4

Number of snakes and scorpions seen (alive): 11
Number of termites embedded in my leg: 1
Mosquito bites: 1655*

Cycle tourers met in Africa: 5
Number of times I have locked my bike in Africa: 9
Number of times I have worn a bike helmet: 2
Number of puncture repair patches used: 4
Most books I had in my panniers at any given time: 11

Marriage proposals: 5
Accidents caused: 2
Number of times I have fallen off: 1
Number of times I have been hit by passing traffic: 1

Times I have been given incorrect change: 43*
Bribes demanded: 2
Bribes paid: 0

Pairs of sunglasses lost: 3
Flip-flops broken: 4

Mayonnaise sandwiches eaten: 92*
Bananas eaten: lost count

Beers drunk: 355
Average kilometres cycled per beer: 35.4

Highs and Lows

Helen Lloyd    Helen Lloyd     Burkina Faso, challenge, cycling, Helen, Mali, motivation, take on africa

Since the last update and the trials and tribulations that paddling on the Niger River entailed, I’ve hit the bottom and (fortunately) bounced right back….

Having hung up the paddle and sold the pirogue in Kouroussa, Guinea, we (that’s me and Lars Bengtsson) cycled towards Bamako, Mali. The two weeks on the river had taken their toll and once the adrenalin I’d been solidly running on for those two weeks finally left my body, I got ill. I was more tired than I’d ever felt. Mentally and physically. My head could cope but my body didn’t – my stomach which had been dodgy, on and off for months, rebelled. I felt awful. For the first time I was tempted to stop cycling and get a lift. I’m glad I didn’t.

After a much needed rest in Bamako, I was beginning to recover and the ride on to Djenne was more bearable. No easier mind – the harmattan wind was blowing hard against me. But at least my stomach didn’t hurt any more and the bloated, 5-months-pregnant, look had subsided.

In Djenne a friend came to visit and I hung up the bike for a few weeks. A chance to explore Mali, travelling as the locals do, was the perfect medicine. A month later and I was feeling revived, rejuvenated, invigorated, raring to ride….

I looked forward to the solitude of the road – for the first time in five months I would be on my own – and to camping out under the stars after an exhausting day’s cycle.

The five days it took to reach Burkina Faso’s capital were great! I loved it! Loved it despite the wind changing direction and trying it’s hardest to blow me back to Mali and when that failed, whipping up dusty tornadoes that swept across the road and deposited sand and dirt over my sweaty body. I was thriving on the challenge of the bumpy tracks and monotonous surroundings of the Sahel. I was enjoying engaging with the Burkinabe (as the locals call themselves), at the border, in the bar and over a breakfast coffee.

I’ve been enjoying every day since I started cycling again and I haven’t been ill either. I can’t help but think the two are inextricably linked. Of course, I’m going to enjoy myself more if I’m not ill. But I also think that part of the reason I was ill in the first place was not just due to physical tiredness, but mental exhaustion too.

So over the past few weeks I’ve learned a lot. But most importantly, I’ve learned that I need to continue to take regular breaks and do different things besides just cycling. Not only do I need to rest my body, my mind needs a break too.

Paddling on the Niger River

Helen Lloyd    Helen Lloyd     Camping, canoeing, Helen, Niger river, paddling, take on africa, wildlife

Take On Africa is about my journey cycling from the UK to Cape Town. However, it’s not just about the cycling. It’s about exploring the countries I travel through – exploring the people, the wildlife, the landscapes. And what could be a better way to explore the Niger river that flows over 4000km through West Africa, than by buying a local pirogue (wooden boat) and paddling down part of it?

I chose the section between Faranah and Kouroussa in Guinea, in the upper reaches of the river. Here I would get a chance to paddle through the Haut Niger National Park and hopefully see some interesting wildlife.

I saw plenty of fascinating wildlife: warthogs, antelope, duikers, snakes, vervet monkeys, baboons, chimpanzees and lots of hippos. And that’s not to mention the hundreds of species of birds.

The river trip was less a wildlife viewing experience however, but an action-packed, exciting river challenge that saw us (me and fellow cycle tourer Lars Bengtsson) negotiating rapids and shallow waters with varying degrees of success. On more than one occasion we thought we might have to abort the trip early. But we made it relatively unscathed!

Without passing a single village on the two-week and 350km paddle, I spent each night camping out on large rocks or the banks of the river. The freedom you experience of this kind of wild camping is intoxicating.

Each evening I would first put up my tent and then set about cooking on an open fire. Dinner would then usually be devoured inside the tent in order to avoid the bothersome sand-flies and tsetse flies. Laying down to rest I would then sweat for a few hours, the rocks on which we pitched our tents still radiating heat from the daily exposure to the sun’s rays. Eventually, the temperature would cool and I would drift off to sleep to the sounds of the river – crickets, frogs, fishes splashing.

But those two amazing weeks on the Niger river are over now – It’s back on the bike for now. Although, travelling through Mali I shall continue to follow the river’s path towards the fabled city of Timbuctoo.

If you would like to read more about my journey down the Niger river, I have posted a detailed day-to-day account of the trials and tribulations experienced on my website Take On Africa.

Six Month’s On the Road to Freetown

Helen Lloyd    Helen Lloyd     cycling, desert, Helen, outdoors, take on africa

I’ve now been on the road for six months – I can barely believe it! And after six months and 9,000km I’m in Freetown, Sierra Leone.

My last note was about the Sahara and unquantifiable amounts of sand. I have since then travelled through five countries over hugely varying terrain and differing geographical regions: through the flat, arid sahel and mangrove swamps of Senegal, along the river of the Gambia, through primary forest divided by many rivers in Guinea-Bissau, the green highlands of Guinea and down into the tropical forests of Sierra Leone.

The roads have been equally varied: from smooth, freshly laid asphalt, to gravel, to bumpy dirt tracks and sandy lanes and on occasion across country on barely recognizable footpaths.

Needless to say, a lot has happened: encounters with countless animals, insects mostly; termites, spiders, ants, mosquitos; but also monitor lizards, snakes, monkeys, chimpanzees, mice. Encounters with friendly locals, corrupt officials, screaming kids; fortunately I’ve not bumped into any rebels or mercenaries as feared.

At times I’ve been so happy, feeling so lucky, to be undertaking this journey. At other times, I’ve be tired, ill, overwhelmed. There have been tears and anger and despair.

But all of this adds up into one amazing adventure. I have never once wished to be back home, never wished to be elsewhere, never thought about giving up. Without the tough times, the good times wouldn’t be so great.

Looking forward to what the next six months will bring… I’m headed for Mali and will no doubt soon be cursing the heat and sand again!

Much more than sand

Helen Lloyd    Helen Lloyd     cycling, desert, Helen, Sahara, sand, take on africa

Take on Africa – latest update from Nouakchott, Mauritania – crossing the desert.

For the best part of three weeks I’ve now been in the desert… the great Saharan wilderness. Perhaps wildness is an equally applicable term to use. And over the three weeks I’ve been cycling south, everyday crossing another small section of desert, each section of desert different to the last. There’s the flat stony hammada spanning to the horizon, the winding roads around rocky escarpments, the canyon running parallel to the coast, the windswept beaches and towering cliffs of the coastline, the shifting dunes of white, golden and burnt umber, green palms and round wooden huts along dried-up riverbeds – small oases of life in this dry, hot place. But one thing is common is all these desert landscapes…. sand.

And sand it turns out, it the inevitable, unavoidable bane of the desert cycle tourer. Wind too when not cycling, intensifies the problems. But wind can be the cycle tourer’s friend – it was the help hand of a tailwind that made the journey across the sahara so much fun.

Sand really does get everywhere. And there’s nothing you can do about it. It blows into your tent at night and deposits on your face and in your sleeping bag. You breathe it in as you sleep and it clogs up your nose. It sticks to your dirty, damp clothes when you stop for a break and sit down. It adds a certain ‘crunch’ to your breakfast, lunch and dinner as it blows onto your bread or mixes with your pasta. Attempts to remove it are futile – it sticks to your sweaty hands and all that happens is you brush it to some other part of your clothes or body.

In the end, you give up, accept that the sand is here to stay. But afterall, what would the desert be without it? And in any case, you know that at the end of it all, you’ll check into a hotel and be able to jump into the shower. Washing the sand down the drain. But never washing away the memories the desert conjures up in your mind and feelings it evokes. Like a campfire burning through the night, with the embers still hot in the morning it is easy to restart the fire – your memories may fade once you leave the desert, but they’ll never disappear and occasionally, some random event or sight or smell will re-awaken the memory of those days cycling through the Sahara.

The desert – so much sand. The desert – so much more than sand.