Zambia, our ninth African country, and my first crash. The 20kms from the Tanzanian border to Mbala was tricky mud. Just when you'd build a bit of confidence and pick up the speed, you'd lose control momentarily, and the jolt of adrenaline would raise your heart-rate, and lower your confidence. Often tentative riding is counter-productive as you don't have the drive from the back wheel to keep a bike under control, and mud tends to clog up the tread turning it into a smooth donut with zero traction. But when your front wheel is wandering off by itself, or you begin to awkwardly fishtail, it's easier said than done to keep the power on. However, at one particularly greasy section the bike started to squiggle uncomfortably, and in a moment of bravado and frustration I wound
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