Botswana

I spent nine pleasant days crossing Botswana. The people were exceedingly friendly, always waving. As I continued north wild animals became a main topic of conversation. Everyone warned me about elephants and lions ahead and asked if I was not scared. I told them I wasn't, but after a hundred people cautioned me about lions I couldn't help but be anxious.

I entered the area with the animals in north east Botswana. It was a remote 300 kilometer stretch with a small village halfway through. The “big five” lived there, in the bush just off of the road. At rest areas signs precluded the government from liability. Leave your vehicle at your own risk they said. I tried to stay moving and kept a close eye on the tall grass. Fixing a flat tire becomes pretty exciting in a place like this. The first night a Park Ranger strongly suggested I stay at a camp ground. In fact he drove me there so I would arrive before dark. The second day I found a lookout tower to sleep in. As night descended 15 elephants arrived to wander beneath me and make strange noises in the dark. I was thankful to be up in the tower as I would have been terrified to be down there hanging between trees among the thrashing elephants. On the third night I hung my hammock in the forest. Despite the night I just had in the tower I decided I wanted to sleep among the wild things. Elephant trails were everywhere. Earlier that day a shepherd pointed out a lion's print in the sand, a truck driver showed me photos of lions next to the road, the road I was on. I pushed my bike into the forest shortly before dusk, and hung my hammock as high off the ground as I could. I laid in it wide eyed, ears straining to identify anything in the darkness below.

By the time I left Botswana I had seen a couple dozen elephants, a zebra, a roadkill hyena, impala, baboons, small snakes and warthogs. I took a ferry to the safety of Zambia. Everyone had nice things to say about Zambia.

 This is my mascot. I found him on the side of the road in Argentina.

 Camping in the lookout tower.

 Hammockeers will recognize this as a high hang.

This was the closest to a welcome sign that I could find. 

Leaving South Africa

I spent another 10 days crossing South Africa from Lesotho to Botswana. On my last night in South Africa I was in my hammock near a game reserve. As the sky grew dark I heard in the distance low guttural animal noises. The reserves here have tall wire fences that remind me of the Jurassic Park movies. I hoped whatever was making the sound was on the other side of that fence. I slept lightly. In the morning I heard it again, deep and distant, calling forth in the pale morning light as the last of the stars blinked out. Through the night I had conjured up images of mammoth buffalo snorting or some sort of trophy bred impala that croons at the stars. I packed my things and started down the road to discover what was ahead. I had an answer when soon I came across a group of tired looking cows. I was laughing at myself for turning a distant cow moo into a fearsome African beast when I reached the nature reserve. Movement on an adjacent hill caught my eye. An animal hopped low among the rocks. I thought it a goat but then it bellowed. It was the sonorous cry I had been hearing. It stepped into view, a dark baboon. Looking at me it called out again and I stopped. In the next few minutes about 30 baboons crossed the road, mostly adults, babies clung to their mother's backs, a few adolescents prodded each other and tumbled on the road. When it seemed no more would be coming I continued. They had moved onto the hill and into the trees. From above the whole group stared, watching me pedal slowly past.

Lesotho

I've made it across Lesotho. The mountains were spectacular and exhausting. I traveled through the center of the country, six days in the mountains and one long downhill right back into South Africa. In the mountains, the homes were round single rooms of stone with grass rooftops. Everywhere shepherds walked with animals. Wherever I was at least one was in sight. From high on the hills they would whistle and I would wave. People also walked on the roads and used donkeys to move goods. Through the mountains I was passed by a dozen or maybe 20 vehicles per day. The land was quiet and clean.

The villages varied between rural outposts of a few dozen homes tucked in among a thousand valleys and clusters of two to five homes positioned much more remote than that. Always near the villages was a spring, usually weak. The slow water tasted wonderful, sweet and fresh.

On one long climb a pack of 15 children chased me as I went. A six year old was the first to join in and for a half hour he stuck right by me. At the top everyone was breathless and sweaty, me included. It was at the end of the day and my legs were tired. I would have stopped sooner but that six year old looked to be on a mission to get to the pass in one go. I didn't want to let him down.

I spent a night with three shepherds. I was standing in the rain having a look around when one came by with cows and invited me to his home. They talked and laughed loudly in a language that sails across valleys. I stood with them around a small fire and ate goat. Wind whipped at the flame, taking embers up to scatter among the moon and the stars and the lightning.

2874 meters.

Nice view from an outhouse.

Goats!

Down from the mountains.

Now Africa

I've been crossing South Africa for the past three weeks or so. Leaving Cape Town I followed a spectacular coastal road pinned between towering white cliffs and the gorgeous south Atlantic and Indian Oceans. I slept in my hammock listening to the rolling surf. This lasted a few days until I turned inland to cross dry empty fields, cracking in the hot sun and swept clean by the wind. Farming happens in the winter here,  when the rains come. I was also passing game reserves and occasionally spotted zebras or antelopes. I've crossed paths with wild baboons and vervet monkeys too.

I've turned north now and towards the mountains of Lesotho. I always love biking through mountains and these have been no exception. Like massive rolling waves I climb and descend gradually over the green hills, passing small towns, sheep herders and subsistence farms along the way. This has lead me up Sani Pass to the border of Lesotho. A full day's effort on a loose dirt road with a lot of pushing. The view all the way up was magnificent. At the top I climbed into a cloud and crossed into Lesotho with mist on my face, greeted by a hundred sheep.

I've had a lot of great interactions with the people here too. Twice I've been invited in for dinner and a bed. So many people wave and say hello. In small towns I wave left and right at everybody, like a pageant winner in a very small parade. Whenever I stop people approach to ask where I came from. A lot of people here walk everywhere so lately when I say I've come from Cape Town I get looks of astonishment or skepticism. They shake their heads and say “strong man” as I bike away.



Cape Town pirate ship.






Check out this cool road cut! Bikes not allowed due to falling rocks.




There were a lot of forest fires near Cape Town.


No traffic here!








Sweater tree.












The start of Sani Pass.






This rock needed to be climbed.








This is even steeper than it looks.


The road up Sani Pass, after the clouds had cleared.


Now the Kingdom of Lesotho!