Old Legs Tour Angola 2024 – Day 32

We’re not sure, but at around 3am our campsite was suddenly busy with bodies in and out of the bush, armed  with shovel and loo roll.  Jono found himself in a pretty prickle during one of his forays into the bush,  captured by a wily Wag-‘n-bietjie bush, his limbs immobilized by its sharp hooks. Jaime, witnessing Mark’s futile attempts at escape, rushed valiantly to the rescue, only to find herself ensnared by the vicious little bush. Laughing hysterically at their quandary didn’t help much and eventually, through sheer brute force, Mark managed to break the bush up into small enough pieces to free them both.

Dawn broke, and six of us were down with runny tummies. Gus must have stared a little too long into the raging eye of the mountain monster because he appeared to have been awarded a double dose of the bug. He was by far the worst affected.  Charcoal tablets were being dished out like sweeties and those who were prepared to accept the long-term consequences downed some Imodium for good measure.  It all served to heighten our trepidation, and at the same time, it strengthened our resolve to make it to the top, no matter what!

We’d planned a strategic campsite to allow for a gentle 10km warm-up before tackling the climb.  Haha.  You’d think we’d know by now that the best-laid plans of rats on a stick do oft go astray.  It turned out that the campsite we thought we were at was actually a gentle 10km away, and the one we had in fact chosen was at the very foot of the mountain, where we found ourselves facing an immediate ascent.

The B team had resolved that they were getting to the top, no matter how many breaks they had to take or how slow the ride was,  they had all day and were going to take it!  So they decided to head off an hour before the A team.  Unfortunately, a spate of last-minute loo runs meant that by the time they actually got going, they had lost a valuable half-hour off their handicap.

The morning began with a low-hanging mist, which was a blessing in disguise. If we’d had a clear view of how high and how far we were expected to climb, we might have heeded Adam’s advice and opted for a left turn to the beach instead. The fog at least cooled the air, because we were in for a tough day.

The B team set off at 6:30, very slowly!  Alistair is always in charge of the B team and this includes breaks and treats along the way.  There is always an adventure to be had when Ali is leading the pack, and today was an adventure like no other.   The A team cheated and left camp at 6:45, only 15 minutes after the B team which was not nearly enough of a handicap.  Adam set the pace using his power meter to limit effort and make sure we didn’t burn out too early.

The initial ascent was manageable, with gradients around 3-5%. Along the way, there were little stalls selling all manner of touristy trinkets, and the friendly vendors were quick to enter into the spirit of the adventure, cheering us on as we climbed with whoops and cries in Portuguese like “Go for it” and “You’ve got this”.  Thinking about it now, they may well have been yelling, “Don’t do it, you crazy old goats!” But the reality is that our minds were set and the further we climbed and the steeper the road became, the more resolute we became.

As the sun rose above the mountain, replacing the glaring eye of last night’s blood moon, it seemed to burn a path through the fog, and we emerged from the low-lying cloud to witness a breathtaking spectacle: a sea of white mist, dotted with emerald islands. It was as if we had ascended to a higher realm.   The A team caught up with the B team at this breathtaking moment, and the collective mood transitioned from trepidation to awe.  We were delighted to discover that we had already climbed quite a way, and still felt great.

By now we were a quarter of the way up, and the slopes had increased to a constant 8 – 10%, but we almost didn’t notice because the views were so magnificent.  Keegan could not help himself and stopped at the nearest viewing platform to take pictures and soak up the moment.  Adam and Nick machined up the mountain chatting excitedly and the B team meandered on ever so slowly, happily admiring the view.  Mark rode in the middle of the pack, not feeling 100% but still determined and pacing himself carefully.  Gus was riding with gritted teeth and clenched cheeks.  He passed the B team at the halfway stop, where they ate some snacks and enjoyed the view, under the magnificence of a baobab tree.  We offered Gus the opportunity to join us, but we’re not sure exactly what he said, as his teeth were firmly clenched, and he didn’t stop.

From about halfway up, we noticed reinforced concrete walls along the embankments to prevent landslides. These walls were adorned with colourful and vibrant murals by artists from all across Angola, adding a splash of creativity to the landscape, yet another distraction from the ever-increasing gradient.

The remaining climb, a mere third of the total distance, was still half the ascent and was where the switchbacks began. The B team of Dave, Caveman, Jaime, and Ali decided to take a well-deserved break, with Ali presenting the very convincing argument that we’d never return to this spot again and should therefore spend quite a lot of time savouring the incredible view and our hard-earned accomplishment.   He had us at the word “stop” and we didn’t need much convincing as we drank in the colourful cliffs and the sheer wonder of the landscape.

By the time we looked up again, the A team were already at the top of the switchbacks making their way up the last long ramp that led to the viewpoint restaurant turnoff.  Curiously, the switchbacks were the easiest part of the climb. Perhaps our legs had adapted to the altitude, or maybe the sheer joy of being in the moment in that stunning landscape provided an endorphin boost. Whatever the reason, as each of us made it to the top, we all agreed that the ride had been much, much easier than our nighttime dark imaginings had anticipated.

We shared the viewpoint with another bunch of adventurers, the Angolan mountain climbing club, who had selected the cliffs that barricade the switchbacks for a mountain climbing festival and we all shared stories of our adventures to date, a kind of solidarity and fellowship between adrenalin junkies.

Jaime thought that the Christo Rei was at the top of the Serra da Leba.  Adam pointed out that he had said 550 times before that it was 40km further on,  in a town called Labango. Jaime looked vague as she responded, “Oh, did you?”  So after a 40 minute break, we were rounded up to complete the last leg of our epic Angola Tour.  We all thought that this would be a nice cruise into town.  Haha.

The Sera Da Leba Dragon was not letting us off that lightly, and, furious at our glib conquering of her sheer-faced cliffs, roared with rage, creating a headwind from Hell! There was also the slight technicality of the 500m difference in height between where we currently were, and where Christo Rei stood above us, which, combined with the headwind and the perhaps slightly premature celebration of conquering the day’s ride, made this last 40km one of the toughest sections of the entire tour.

It started with Dave falling off his bike on the mean humps right outside the restaurant, followed by the unrelenting assault from the wind and the gruelling, endless hills.  It was like an epic battle to reach Christo Rei, testing our resolve and challenging us to prove our worthiness to be in his presence.  To counter the headwind we tried a peloton, each taking two minutes at the front, giving the others a chance to draft behind, but we were tired and losing focus, and after several close encounters, the inevitable happened, Dave rode into Caveman’s back tyre and had his second involuntary dismount of the day. It is a testament to his tenacity that he got straight back up and pushed on.  Only then did he get the most terrible cramp in his legs, forcing him to stop for a moment.

Adam rushed off then reappeared, bizarrely brandishing a jar of gherkins.  Swearing that the Springbok rugby team use gherkin juice as an instant cramp cure, he instructed poor Dave to drink an inch of the vinegar water.  Dave said he’d rather have the cramp, but with a grimace, and a “this better work or else” glare in Adam’s direction,  took his medicine. Miraculously, it worked and he was soon back on his bike and pedalling on.

In the meantime, Gus had been fighting his own demons, his signature smile gone, left somewhere at the bottom of the Serra Da Leba, his face ashen, but there was no way that this tummy bug was going to have its way, and he soldiered on. He quipped that he was sure that he would be better by beer o’clock, and this at least brought the ghost of a fleeting smile back to his face.

Time slowed as we chewed through each kilometre. The closer we got to Christo Rei, the slower we seemed to go, and the more unattainable he seemed to grow.  As we were about to lose hope, we finally reached the turnoff from the main road onto the road to Christo Rei, and just as we thought we’d made it, the Dragon unleashed one final challenge –  a 100m climb straight up.

But we are not called the Old Legs for nothing, and we had come too far and were too close to be put off by a little hill! The excitement welled and the banter started back up as our crazy little crew shifted back into full-scale Do Epic mode.  Rounding the corner, a massive Hollywood-style “Lubango” sign appeared and, standing high above the city, a resplendent statue of Christ, arms outstretched as if to say, “Welcome.  Makorokoto. You made it!”

We made it.  Thank you for being with us through the sand, the flies,  the forest and the fog, the desert and the dunes, down the wormhole, to the source, along the railway line, up the hills, down the ravines, over the arid lunar landscape, along the thunderous, mighty coast, and finally, up the magnificent Serra Da Leba, to the foot of the mighty Christo Rei.

Old Legs Tour Angola 2024 – what a ride!

Most of the cyclists will be heading home on Friday, but someone’s got to get Christopher and his two Isuzu buddies back, so look out for a few more updates and epic photos as 9 of us wend our way back home to Zim.

Until then, keep pedalling,

Have Fun.  Do Good.  Do Epic.

#OldLegsTour #Angola2024 #EvenMoreEpic #PedallingForPensioners #HaveFun #DoGood #DoEpic