Beware of Death Traps Posing as Bike Trails
Let me tell you about a death-defying bike adventure we went on when life was still normal. It was at this GORGEOUS eco-lodge called Hippo Pools, in Umfurudzi National Park, Zimbabwe. After one night of a lovely experience watching hippos and seeing zebra and giraffe on a walking safari, we decided to do the bike riding activity the camp offered, after breakfast the following day.
When we were renting the bikes, I told the lady we wanted the flattest, easiest trail, as it was a hot day. To which she responded “oh, in that case, follow the pink trail, you’ll see pink sheets of metal nailed to the trees as you go, and it would bring you to the unpaved vehicular road which leads straight back to the lodge. Oh, and the bikes are $5 each for 4 hours.” We thanked her, grabbed the bikes and our helmets and left.
We had planned to just head out with the two bottles of water we were casually holding from breakfast, but Dwayne suggested we go get a backpack from our chalet, so we don’t have to hold the bottles in our hands. When we got to our chalet, Zarah and Jaiden (our kids) went in to get the backpack and then we set off on what we thought would be a maximum 30 – 45 mins ride along a simple trail, around the lodge. We would sing happy songs, wave to a monkey or two, and be back to chill and play Pictionary before lunch.
We set off in high spirits! Cycling through trees and bushes, feeling like 2 Doras and 2 Diegos with our backpack, but without a map! Oh, did I mention the entire park has NO cellphone signal? So our phones were just pocket clocks that also took pictures.
About 10 minutes in, we started approaching what looked like a stream. Oh my! How cool! We were cycling in the wild! Bushes and branches caressing our arms, the scent of vegetation and fertile soil filling our lungs and activating our primordial instincts. So when we saw hoof prints on the ground after crossing the stream, we joked about taking a break to hunt down a deer and roast it for lunch. Never mind that 3 out of our group of 4 have never seen a cow turn to beef, or a pig turn to pork. But hey, how hard could slaughtering and roasting an animal be when we watch Bear Grills every week?
30 minutes in, at the second stream, we literally had to pick up our bikes to carry it up the steep banks, with the only traction we had, being the tree roots exposed, perhaps by erosion or the force of water washing away the soil, in times when the water level could’ve been higher. It was still fun and games though. We cheered each other on and once we made it through, we continued on the path.
One hour in, we had finished one 500ml bottle of water, only because we were being conservative, having only one left. Then Zarah suggested we turn around and head back. “oh no, going back is going to take another hour, let’s keep going, soon the path should circle back to the unpaved vehicular road the lady talked about and we’ll cycle straight to the lodge” was my response. Oh! Had I known! Remember our primordial instincts which were activated by being in the “wild” for only 10 minutes? Well, mine gave rise to a sort of ancestral navigation spidey sense, which was now telling me we were not circling back to the lodge, but going farther away from it, the more we rode. But I still didn’t take heed.
2hrs in, after passing 4 streams, we were out of the groves and now on a loose, sandy path and in direct exposure to the scorching sun! Then we suddenly realized we hadn’t seen any pink plates nailed to a tree in a while. We stopped. Rode back about 300 meters, nothing! Rode forward, past where we realized we hadn’t seen any plates for a while, nothing! Oh, maybe we should take Zarah’s advice and head back to the lodge the way we came. But which one of the paths leads us back to the stream? Oh S#*%! We’re lost!
My 21st-century instinct said grab your phone and call the lodge. I grabbed my phone, wiped off the sweat balls that had covered my screen from where it had been resting between my waistband and my belly. Then my inner voice said “hmm why did the sweat look brownish, you took a shower this morning, right?” I said “oh be quiet!” Then I unlocked my phone with shaky hands only to see the signal was as nonexistent as it had been since the day we arrived at the park! Oh my gosh! We were lost in the woods. Somewhere in the portion of this 76,000 hectares of land which belonged to Hippo Pools. With no cellphone, no satellite phone, no radio, no map, no pink plates, nothing! I took in a deep breath and forcefully exhaled in the loudest silent scream I’ve ever done.
Then Dwayne suggested we take a break. We can think clearer afterwards. So we pushed our bikes to the nearest, scantiest shade and sat down. I was thirsty and somehow hungry from fear, but with only one bottle of water left, my spit would have to do. My children need that water. We don’t know how long we would be in this predicament. And at what point would the lodge know we’re lost? When would they come looking for us? How would they know where in this expanse of land we are? I composed myself on the ground beside my children and husband, swallowed spit and quickly realized all liquids are not created equal. Then I began to cry the ugliest, snotty-nosed cry, complete with drool and cry hiccups. But I did it only in my head. The kids shouldn’t see me cry at this point. It would send them into full hopeless mode. And we didn’t need that.
In my distress, I heard my inner voice whisper “I have a thought” and I attentively listened. Then suddenly, startling me, she yelled “why the fnck, did this fncking lodge not think it was good practice to map the trail and give maps to guests?! Why the fnck didn’t they tell us that we were stupid for asking for the easiest trail, because easy was for wimps and they don’t believe in accommodating wimpy requests. Why the fncking fnck did they not tell us that if we hadn’t been training with the kind of mountain goats who carried their bicycles up the edge of a cliff in the scorching sun, with no water and food, for at least 3 months, we weren’t qualified to bike even their ‘easiest’ trail!? Why in name of all fncking things did they not give us radios, like the ones the staff at the lodge used to communicate among themselves?! Haven’t they watched any fncking episodes of Discovery channel’s ‘I Shouldn’t Be Alive?”
I had had enough of the foul language, so I cut her off saying “ok, inner voice, don’t talk about them like that. It’s not nice to use such language even when people deserve it. Then my inner voice raised her voice even louder saying “AND YOU! You didn’t fncking think to ask them how long this fncking trail was? Yes, you asked for easy, but don’t you realize the relativity in that fncking term ‘easy’?! You do something so fncked up as venturing into the wild with only a backpack and two bottles of water?! You forget Dora’s backpack is fncking magic and she can pull out a satellite phone, a car with 4 bike racks and a fncking lodge out of that s#it! Mmm Mmm, this is all your fncking fault!” Then I yelled “hey, inner voice, you’re not helping, so I’m shutting you out!”. As I shut the door, I heard her fading voice echo “This is why you’re in this s#it in the first place. You never listennnn”. Then I started crying again.
All of a sudden, Dwayne pulled me out of my head, patting my back and offering me a banana! The best-looking banana I’ve ever seen. This banana was bruised from top to bottom – or bottom to top, depending on your preferred orientation of a banana – from being squished in the hot backpack for that long, but it was the most beautiful thing ever. Then I looked over at my family, and I saw an orange and 2 apples being eaten. Just as I was about to ask where these came from, my divine children said “we have 2 pieces of fruit each, a bag of skittles and 3 more bottles of water” because their messianic instincts made them grab these essential supplies, when they went into the chalet to get the backpack! #ProudestMommyMomentEver!
You see, children learn from us, even when we forget what we taught them. Countless times, they’ve seen us pack these types of supplies when we go hiking. No matter how short the hike is going to be. And this morning, when mom and dad were farting out of our brains, they took charge and saved us from dying in the African bushes of Umfurudzi National Park. I hugged my cherubs like the day they were born. Then I started regretting every time I’d ever yelled at them.
2.5hrs in, after refreshing with fruit, water and some skittles, I had some clarity, and my inner voice came to the door saying “knock knock, may I suggest you get your fncking phone.., sorry, may I suggest you get your smart phone, and use the map of the area you downloaded before your trip from Harare? You know, the one you downloaded because you knew there wouldn’t be data or phone service in this area?” Then I yelled out to my family, oh, guys, I can use my GPS! I downloaded the map of the area before we came, and at least it can show us how far we are away from the lodge and if we’re going towards, or away from it!”
When I typed Hippo Pools lodge, it said we were 6km away! Oh my gosh! That’s about 2 more hours, if we continued at this pace: pushing our bikes through the loose beach sand on this path, having to carry it down and up more streams and stopping to catch our breaths. Plus, the GPS couldn’t tell us what paths to follow to get out of the woods to the unpaved vehicular road that takes us straight to the lodge. So we were still lost! Down to a bottle and half of water, 2 pieces of fruit and a few skittles. I started panicking again. 6KM! I’m not even going to tell the kids how long that would take at our pace. We just need to press on.
But first, we needed to find our way out the woods. We needed to find the pink plates. So we picked up our bikes and continued on the path. Dwayne said if we didn’t see any pink plates in the next 400 meters, we’d turn around and try to find our way back to the stream where we all remember seeing the last one. About 200 meters in, we see the prettiest, diamond – covered in crystals – polished in glitters – and whistling angelic tunes – pink plate, nailed to a tree! We howled and used a little too much energy pushing towards it. We didn’t hug or kiss the plate or the tree, we just continued pushing our bikes through the sand. Then the ground got stiffer and we started cycling again.
A few minutes after what felt like an hour in, I stopped to check the GPS again, it recalibrated and said we were now 7km away! My inner and outer voice said “How the FU…” then everyone turned around and said “what now?” And I was reluctant to tell them, as to not kill their spirits, but Zarah stole a peep at my phone and said “after all that riding we added one more km to the 6 we had to go?! We’re going away from the lodge!” Then Jaiden said “oh no! I can’t do this any longer”. Then Dwayne responded “c’mon kids, we’ve hiked 16km through the longest gorge in Europe, and we did it in the good time of only 6hrs. We can do this” Then he turned to me and said “I think the path leads away from the lodge, before it merges into the unpaved road.” And for the first time since the ordeal began, I started to pray.
At this point, we’d opened our last bottle of water, and running out of water would take this to a whole new level. But at least the path was firmer, so we were riding. After about 10 minutes, we got to a fork and the pink plate pointed to the right. We went right. Then my inner voice, half giggling, said “no fncking way!” And there it was. The unpaved road! We rode with joy, squeals and laughter towards the road. But our excitement was as short-lived as the relief the roof of a car gets from the pounding rain when passing under a bridge. Once we stopped and took in the endless, gully, valley, hilly and unforgiving length of this 6km stretch of road, the only natural thing to do was cry out really loud.
With fewer opportunities for shade, half a bottle of water, and many hilly climbs where we could only push the bikes, I literally saw everyone’s faces fall. Then my inner voice barged in, shouting in the heaviest voice “you don FnCKED UP!” I ignored her. Dwayne encouraged us to keep pushing. So we headed down the first slope, and pushed our bikes up the first hill, then a little flat distance, then down another slope and up the next hill, pushing. It wasn’t the distance that was the problem now, it was the scorching sun, the thirst, and the energy pushing the bikes up the hill took from us.
After 15 minutes, we stopped under the first tree that provided some shade on the side of the road. The kids sipped some water. Dwayne and I didn’t. Then out of nowhere, we heard the sound of a vehicle. Oh my gosh! Something was coming. This would be our first family hitchhiking experience. It doesn’t matter where they’re going. Just take us. But would it be big enough to fit us all? It doesn’t matter, if they have just one seat, we’ll stack ourselves on daddy’s lap, all 3 of us. How about the bikes? These effing bikes don’t need water! The sun is not slowly drying out their blood! They can stay here for all I care! The sound is coming closer, then my inner voice says “unfnckingbelievable! It’s a flatbed truck! A really long one!”
And I stick my arm out so far, the truck would have to knock it off my shoulder if they plan to go by without stopping. The truck gets closer. It stops. Before I speak, the driver says “where are you coming from?” And I said “Harare”. He said “what? Harare is 3 hours away”. I said, “oh, sorry, I thought you meant where did we come to this park from?” Then I added, “actually, we started our biking from Hippo Pools this morning, but the trail is much longer than we expected and we’re running out of water, can you please give us a lift to Hippo Pools?” He said “No problem, but I’m not going all the way to Hippo Pools. Our work site is a right turn about 3km from here and about 2km from Hippo Pools”. I said “no problem, that would be helpful.”
As I turned to tell the fam to come on, I see that Dwayne had loaded all 4 bikes on the flatbed, he had lifted Zarah on, and was in the process of lifting Jaiden, who was saying “c’mon mommy”. We got on the truck, squeezed our butts between construction materials and bikes, and almost fell asleep on the hot metal, as we bumped our backs and elbows with each dip and gallop the truck did on our bumpy, beautiful ride towards Hippo Pools. The open-air breeze felt like the breaths of a thousand angels on our faces.
Then Jaiden said “mommy, tell him to please take us all the way to Hippo Pools” Dwayne followed “yeah, tell him to take us and we’ll pay him”. I said “ok”. So when we got to his right turn, he stopped and stuck his head out the window and said, “Hippo pools is this way”. To which I responded, “could you please take us to Hippo Pools, I’ll pay you”. He smiled and requested “how much?” and my inner voice said “$20” but my cheap self said “10 US”, then he smiled even wider and said “Ok!”. I looked at my GPS and we had 1.8km or 1 mile to go on what was the most uncomfortably comfortable, most expensive ride of our lives.
He dropped us off right at the reception parking lot, and I gave him $20 and told him I didn’t need any change. He got down from the truck and shook my hand. The kind of handshake that extends to your elbows. Just then, the quiet passenger who was riding with him in front all along, came out and gave us the same kind of handshake, adding a bow afterward. They were very grateful for the money, but I didn’t know how to express to them that we were much more grateful for the ride.
We pushed our bikes up the stairs towards the reception and the lady staff who gave us the bikes came out and said: “oh welcome back, did you enjoy the trail?” Then my inner voice, slowly rubbing her palms together and shaking her head from side to side said, “Ooooh s#it!” And before I could shut the door, she stuck her foot in and shouted: “You better fncking tell her everything I fncking said, when your fncking asses were on the verge of death in the fncking woods!”
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