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Here’s a little story from Peter Gostelow, a friend cycling Africa that recently had a misadventure. As an interesting side note, Peter had a standing invitation to join his adventure, and had I more money and more time, I would have been there with him. We are all wishing him a speedy recovery.

I probably would have walked away unscathed had I not put up some resistance. It was a natural reaction to hold onto my camera bag and ruck-sack as they were being pulled out of my hands. I let go when the machete slashed through my wrist.

I ought to start at the beginning. This post was going to be about my impressions of Dakar and the nearby island of Goree, instead it is a description of how I was attacked by five men, two of whom were wielding rather large machetes.

It happened around 8pm last Saturday night, right outside the International School I’d been speaking at the previous week here in Dakar. I was walking along the corniche – a large, well-lit and usually busy road that runs along the coast.

My assailants were wearing flip-flops.  It was  the sound of their footwear along the pavement that I heard first. When I turned round the five bodies had surrounded me. They were all black, young and two were wielding large machetes. The blades looked old and rusted. There were shouts, possibly in Wolof, as hands began to tug at my bags. I was wearing a small black day-sack on my back and an SLR camera was in a bag across my shoulder.

Those first few seconds were surreal. I didn’t accept it was a reality until I’d  moved backwards into the road and fallen onto the tarmac. I watched  car headlights approaching and wished they would come quicker. When they did the horns sounded and the vehicles swerved around me. I thought the vehicles would stop and deter the five. At first none did.

The bags were still in my possession at this moment. It was when the machetes started slashing in front of my face and one connected with my wrist that I let go. It was probably at this moment that my wallet, buried deep within a zipped pocket of my trousers, was taken too.

Within seconds the five had run across the road and jumped over a wall on the sea-ward side of the corniche. I got to my feet in an attempt to chase them. One of the attackers had yet to jump the wall. I cried out from several metres away. He turned and looked at me nervously, then threw the empty camera bag back, before disappearing over the wall.

It was then that I looked down at my arm and saw the gaping slash. My left foot had also slipped out of my sandle. I thought it was sweat that had caused this, but a pool of blood was collecting here too.

By this time (about 30 seconds later) a number of cars had stopped. A French woman opened the car door and yelled for me to get in. She said she had seen everything.

Blood was oozing out of the wounds as she drove me to a hospital. “This is the best one in Dakar. Don’t worry”. I didn’t really register the words so clearly. I soon started to feel dizzy and was moved onto a bed in an operating room.

I don’t know how much time past  before I woke up. The Director of the International School, who’d arrived shortly after me at the hospital, was still there. It was good to see an English-speaking face.

The hospital discharged me yesterday. My wrist and foot have been stitched up and I have a course of antibiotics and painkillers to ease the discomfort. I can’t put any weight on my left foot and know it will be some time before I get back on the bike.

Very fortunately I’m being well looked after by an American couple from the school. I entered their house as strangers last week and they now feel like the closed people around me.

Now that I’m out of the hospital and reflecting back over the incident I realise things could have been much worse. I know I should have let go of my bags instantly. It is what my host, who was also mugged with a machete along the corniche last year did. Judging by the looks of their faces I don’t think it was their intention to really use the machetes. They were possibly as scared as me.

There was a moment, whilst I was awaiting the anesthetic and looking up at the fluorescent strip-light above me in the hospital bed, that I said to myself – “now would be a sensible time to quit”. What the hell am I doing riding a bike through Africa when in the space of two weeks I’ve had both my cameras stolen, all my money taken and my arm and foot slashed with a machete? Sure there were incidents of theft when I cycled from Japan-England, but nothing like this.

The truth is I’ve put a lot of thought and energy into The Big Africa Cycle. I’m determined to complete what I set out to do at the start, and continue fund-raising for the Against Malaria Foundation. Senegal has dealt me some blows, but to quit in the face of them is something I feel I’ll regret down the line.

Tomorrow I will see the Doctor and hopefully get a better knowledge of how long I’m looking at for a full recovery. My mum has booked a holiday to see me in The Gambia in several weeks. It is not far from here, but I don’t think I will be riding my bike there somehow.

When theArgonauts first come online in 1999, our vision our vision was to give adventurers a forum to share their hopes and dreams. However, we were a bit over-ambitious and ahead of our time.  Blogs didn’t even exist, and the programming required to match our vision would have cost hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Now everyone can have their own blog, and with the invention sites like Facebook, there’s not much room for theArgonauts. Still we would love to share your story. Send us a blurb and photo.

Here is an archive of some of our old adventures.

This is a worthwhile video if you like bicycles, engineering, or land speed records.

I have been personally trying to break 55 MPH. I came close a few times, but decided in my middle age, that it’s just not worth the risk anymore. One pothole and the game is over :)

Kevin Shannon, a friend of mine, will soon be setting off on his world tour to combat “combat stress”. Above we see him with an interesting contraption called a Third Wheel, a trailer that I suspect will reduce the weight and therefore the wear and tear on his bike, though balance and steering traction look tricky.

In his words:

Because It Is There is a an expedition to circumnavigate the world using zero emissions. During the expedition I will cycle approximately 36,000 miles across 5 continents and sail across 2 oceans (and perhaps canoe down a river or row across a stretch of water at some point) and arriving back on my doorstep around 3 years later. During this time I will be facing extreme sub zero temperatures, scorching heat, thirst, hunger and physical and mental exhaustion.

via Because It Is There » Expedition.

“It is the unknown around the corner that turns my wheels.”

At first Heinz Stucke, the man who is rumored to have done more bicycle touring than anyone in history, was just a rumor. Then I met someone who met someone who met Heinz, and then not too long ago I met someone who met Heinz, confirming that he is still going. I’m still waiting to meet him, but finally I have proof he exists. Heinz has been on the road since 1962 and has logged over 600,000 KM. Now this guy probably has enough adventures to fill a library.

A tip of the bicycle helmet to you, Heinz. Good luck breaking a 1,000,000 kilometers.

Who is The Hungry Cyclist?

Here’s a guy that combines two of my loves of life—bicycling and eating. I expect he’s got some great recipes for grasshoppers somewhere in here :)

In his words:

My name is Tom Kevill-Davies, I love riding my bicycle and I love to eat. It really is that simple. As a journalist, author and photographer I enjoy writing about and photography almost as much as eating and cycling, which basically means, I bicycle to wherever I can find good, well prepared, locally produced, fresh and traditional food before eating it and writing about it.

Since returning from a 2.5 year pedal powered gastronomic quest through the Americas in Search of The Perfect Meal, I have written my first book and am now busy planning my next gastronomic pedal powered quest along the Mekong river.

via The Hungry Cyclist – Cycle Touring & Eating The World

Here’s a couple exploring what it means to “live outside the lines”.

Here’s a clipping of their latest blog. Be sure to visit their site for more info.

Photos: Smith River Redux By Russ | September 18, 2009

Two years ago, Lauraand I went on a tour with some friends down the Oregon coast. It was our first big tour and everything was so intimidating and harrowing. Perhaps the toughest stretch of the trip which has been forever etched in our minds was the two days from Reedsport to Eugene. It is about 90 miles and goes along Smith River. There are two decent size climbs and no potable water or services along the way. When we did it 2 years ago, we were pretty green as far as tourists go. We didn’t bring enough water or food for the crossing. It was also in the 90s and low 100s, we ran out of water and I was overheating pretty bad. I instantly went into survival mode after we got lost in the poorly signed BLM land. It was not a good time.

via Photos: Smith River Redux | The Path Less Pedaled.

Here’s the finale webisode. Dang I’m jealous. I need a support team.

Here are couple friends of mine riding from Nairobi to Cape Town. Wish I could share a couple days with them.

See a map and read about the journey in their own words

Today argonauts (adventurers) Ray Zahab, Richard Weber, and Kevin Vallely broke the record for the quickest unsupported, unassisted expedition to the South Pole–in other words these guys just walked to the South Pole in 33 days, 23 hours, and 30 minutes, beating the old record by almost 6 days.

http://www.southpolequest.com/

My friend Alastair Humphreys will also be attempting the first unsupported return journey to the South Pole. I guess the keyword there is “return”.

This guy makes me super jealous. I mean I can actually feel my skin burn, and get a little angry that he got so “lucky” to attract the media’s attention and go super nova. But then again I could call this same feeling inspiration.