“Crashing is part of cycling as crying is part of love!”
– Johan Museeuw
Read previous chapter: The Penultimate Day – 0.4
Emotions are at play!
I got up early today. A strange feeling was inside me when I thought about how quickly this tour was coming to an end. The finish line was near. It was like a summiteer looking at the summit. Or like the Tour De France team seeking the Champs-Élysées. One final push, and you are through! The excitement, the anticipation, and the efforts made of sweat, tears, and blood! A lot of emotions! The culmination of all the hard work put together in the last few months at the Mombasa Tusks!
The Kenyan participants put in painful efforts to organize the whole event. Many experienced excitement and thrill, as it was their first time. Others felt a sense of accomplishment, marking another milestone. There was also relief for those monitoring the trip from Nairobi, Mombasa, and Boston. The completion of this bike tour has something for everyone.
Earlier articles in the series!
On a personal note, these bike tours are fulfilling experiences, but they also leave a void after they are finished. The blood and sweat drained together have a stronger bond than anything else. What a better way to experience such feelings!
The bang!
So this day we decided to move under the sun at 0700h, as the distance to cover was about 70 km. We finally managed to start moving at 0800h. The ride was comfortable today as well. But it had its own share of events. We were approaching the city of Mombasa, which is the second-largest city in Kenya after Nairobi. So, the traffic had started to increase, and highways were becoming more congested, especially with big trucks. We did not have our front pilot vehicle with us today. As a result, vehicles were passing by very close to us.
I was leading the group today for some time. There were headwinds, so I was keeping my head low. The visibility was reduced in the front. So instead of cycling more carefully, I got complacent. I put my arms over the handlebar instead of keeping them over the brakes. And then bang! I hit a standing truck head-on. It felt like a lightning strike. A shock wave passed through my neck and down my whole body. Before I could understand what happened, a gush of blood started falling from my head. I thought my forehead had torn open. I parked my bike and immediately put pressure on the bleeding site with my towel. Since I was quite ahead of the rest of the team, only Clement, cycling just behind me, actually noticed the incident.
The bleeding stopped with pressure compression. It turned out that my left eyebrow had taken the impact and been torn open. The wound was not very deep but required sutures for aesthetics. We did not have sutures with us, so the wound was cleaned and a bandage applied over it. The cheekbones and nose took the beating as well and were swollen, along with a concussion to the right side of the neck. The helmet saved the skull and the forehead. I was shaken to the core, but I thanked God for saving me from any grievous injury. I got back on the saddle and started cycling again. It was a bit difficult because the dressing was coming out frequently, but somehow I managed the day.
However, this was not good enough! Then Kush’s bike had issues, and his handlebar broke, and he toppled over his bike. Luckily, he survived with only minor bruises. We moved on! As we entered the Mombasa outskirts, the team got divided into two groups and took different routes towards the city center. Our group took the city route, which was full of traffic and had very bad roads with big potholes. The road construction was also going on, and we were negotiating the roads very carefully. As we were closing in on the city, another teammate, Diachi, had a fall from his bike while avoiding a pothole and injured his right shoulder. We gave him first aid, splinted his arm, and evacuated him to a hospital. Luckily, he didn’t have a fracture or any other injury. But he could not cycle anymore after that.
Champs Elysees!
We had expected this day to pass by like a breeze, but it was turning the other way around. But we finally managed to reach our destination, the oldest city in Kenya, Mombasa! We finished our tour symbolically at the Mombasa Tusks. They are the gateway to Mombasa city, first built in 1950 to commemorate the visit of the British Royal Family.
That was it! The team finally reached the destination with everyone alive, with no broken bones or major injuries except for a few stitches and a lot of broken bikes.
This is the summit every mountaineer thrives to reach, the finish line every marathoner wishes to cross! Once you do that, the feeling is one of exhilaration and thrill! A proud moment and a fulfilling thing in itself! I often wonder what moves men and women to do such daunting things that, at first glance, look so stupid and impossible.
One last time!
Once you are cycling in those hard conditions, all you think about is finishing! But the worst part comes once it is over. There will be no more cycling from now on. Suddenly, you are free of pain, but your heart is aching. Your legs are thankful, but you feel empty inside.
You had already started to miss every other biker the moment you reached the Mombasa trunks. You may not see them again forever!
You have already started to miss those routes over which you had cycled painfully the last few days. You may never visit them again!
You are already missing that one person whom you liked the most; you may not meet them again!
You miss those chit-chats over ridiculous things and laugh alone.
You miss those scary moments when a big truck passed by as a whisker beside you, literally pushing you in the air.
You miss that agony when a big lorry from the opposite side pushesd you back when you were already gasping for breath on an upslope.
You missed the frustration under the grueling sun when you couldn’t see the cyclists in front and were literally whining about why they weren’t stopping for a break.
You smile a little when you think about those never-ending 2 km pushes by the sweeper pushing you to the end.
You will miss all those swims and baths after the ride and the bike repair sessions afterwards.
You look forward to your bike tour buddy during the whole post-tour conference.
You dance with your group, share a drink with each other, and say goodbye with teary eyes.
Sayonara!
But this is it! It’s all the Dopamine playing with your brain!
The memories will be etched forever in your hippocampus, and you will cherish them again and again.
You tested your endurance and limits; you made it to the finish line; and you made good friends and memories.
You probably had your best tea at the confectionery shop after the gruelling upslope!
The best swim after covering 120 km; The best food at the Sikh Temple!
Best gratitude after hitting head-on the truck: Remember this until we meet again!
“When the spirits are low, when the day appears dark, when work becomes monotonous, when hope hardly seems worth having, just mount a bicycle and go out for a spin down the road, without thought on anything but the ride you are taking.”
– Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (1859–1930), author of Sherlock Holmes
Read the next chapter: Reflections! – 0.6
Read other chapters in the series:
NIKOMEN! 
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