The Bike That Seduced Me Into Bikepacking

Catalina and her partner Jose Pacheco are currently bikepacking through some beautiful and remote sections of the High Andes in Bolivia. They are capturing their experience on their blog monteadentro.cc. The bikepacking bug has got them constantly seeking new destinations and routes. Starting in Valdivia, Chile, they have travelled over 10,000 km since October 2023 over varied landscapes that are sometimes breathtaking in more ways than one. The blog is in Spanish, but their photography crosses any language barrier. Plus anyone can download the gpx files with key information in English. Their Instagram is also in Spanish, however they have begun including English translation on current posts.

Catalina rides one of our Soma Riff 27.5" wheel hardtail frames.
And we are very grateful she wanted to share the unusual way she came to own her bike.

This is my Soma Riff.  The only thing I love more is riding it.

Hello, I'm Catalina Melo from Colombia. Since I was a child, I have been passionate about sports; anything involving a ball, equipment, or simply being outdoors was my happy place. Soccer was my favorite sport for many years and I competed in local and national tournaments until I was 30. However, a number of injuries forced me to stop playing. 

But living without sports was impossible, so I started road cycling. I've enjoyed biking since I was young and used it as a means of transportation in a busy city like Bogotá, so the shift came naturally. Yet, I felt something was missing; the thrill wasn't the same.

A few years later, during a short mountain biking trip, my partner [Jose] experienced a life-threatening robbery. After this unfortunate incident, he made the decision to “take revenge“ by assembling his "ultimate mountain bike". That's how the SOMA Riff came into our home. However, he only used it a few times before embarking on his first extended bikepacking trip -- using another bike.

The SOMA remained in my room, and I was tasked with caring for it. Later, he admitted that he had also left it to lure me. Every night before bed, I would look at it and thought it was the most beautiful bike ever. Not only was it in my favorite color, but the color also had a connection to music history. And me having graduated from a music program, it was just a question of time and fate before this bike would become mine.

"Every night before bed, I would look at it and thought
it was the most beautiful bike ever."

One day, I decided to try riding it on a short trail, and I realized that mountain biking was what I had been missing: tackling technical descents, steep rocky climbs, singletracks, and remote and solitary routes feels like scoring a goal, making a perfect play, or winning a match. 

Desierto del Diablo (the Devil's Desert), an out of this world landscape
in Puna de Atacama, Argentina

This bike has witnessed my evolution as a cyclist and has motivated me to embark on adventurous bikepacking trips in Colombia and other parts of South America. I can without a doubt, confirm that the Riff frame offers everything I could wish for: 

1. Steel is Real

There's nowhere this bike can't go—rocks, sand, rivers. Nothing is as reliable as steel. This bike is perfect for bikepacking as it can carry loads without risking damage. Additionally, the  frame allows for easy rear rack attachment.

2. Tire Clearance

In Colombia, I regularly ride with 2.4-inch tires with a shock fork for short trips and day rides. However my bikepacking setup are 2.8" tires and a rigid fork; this is what I am using for exploring South America. Upon returning to Colombia, I plan to ride 29er skinny tires, for long distance journeys. 

3. The Head Tube

The bike's design is not fussy; its 44mm universal head tube fits both the 1-1/8" steerer of my rigid fork and tapered steerers of suspension forks.

4. Sliding Dropouts

Besides allowing wider tires, the sliding dropouts lets you adjust the rear wheel's position; you can convert the drivetrain to single-speed in case of derailleur failure. This could be a lifesaver until a proper repair is possible, especially while riding in remote areas.

5. Geometry

  

The SOMA Riff excels in downhill performance, while maintaining its capability on technical or steep climbs, embodying the essence of an authentic hardtail; its head tube angle is a happy medium between a relaxed and reactive feeling. Additionally, the frame triangle offers ample space for installing a frame bag, crucial for long bikepacking adventures.

last but not least…

6. The Perfect Color

Pelham Blue, the iconic color used by Cadillac and Gibson during the 1960’s. 

The Riff's versatility has enabled me to have several bikes with a single frame—from a mountain bike for enduring long days in Colombia's steep mountains to a bikepacking cruiser for adventures across South America's most remote routes.

Follow our cycling projects on Monteadentro's website and Instagram account. 

¡Buenas rodadas amigos!

Catalina Melo 

Riding in the dryest desert of the world: Atacama

Peinado Volcano in Ruta de los Seis Miles

Cycling through the Patagonia Beer Trail

Catalina and her partner Jose in the Bariloche Valley

[ The Riff in Pelham Blue Catalina adores is no longer available. Current colors are Aquamint and Pearl White. The Riff is now Boost compatible, too. ]

Cape to Kapp: My New Definition of "Beauty"

 

Teresie Hommersand's recently wrapped her "Cape to Kapp" adventure, finishing her ride at the North Cape in Norway. Four years in the saddle, across 25,000 kilometers, through 26 countries. Distance and time are just two of the measures of a journey. Maybe the most memorable parts of any journey are the people you meet along the way and Teresie has made so many friends and have had to rely on the kindness of many many strangers to help her through it.
If you are feeling kind yourself, give a little something to her Stoves That Rock fundraiser that gets efficient, eco-friendly outdoor stoves to families in rural Kenya. Fundraiser ends 7/11/22.
We did not sponsor the Soma Saga frame for her ride, but have been making a donation for each post she writes for us. (All photos copyright Teresie Homersand. Photos on the internet are not automatically public domain)

Too often we are afraid of other people. Not long ago I crossed the finish line at the North Cape in Norway, after having cycled there from the most southern tip of Africa - on my trusty Soma Saga bicycle. Now and en route, I regularly get questions about if I've had any bad experiences on my journey - particularly with people. My ride home took me 4 years and 7 months. Who wouldn't have some negative encounters with people during such a long period of time? HOWEVER, if you consider the way I have traveled, how exposed I have been, how vulnerable, and how many thousands of people I've met, from different countries, different cultures and different religions, the few negative experiences I've had is NOTHING compared to all the POSITIVE ones!

The few negative experiences I've had is NOTHING compared to all the POSITIVE ones!

Before Covid-19 forced me to face my fear of camping alone in nature, I was a bit of a wimp when it comes to it. I wasn't comfortable sleeping alone in nature, even though I knew that in pretty much all cases it is completely fine. But when I heard a sound, and I didn't know what it was, I became alert and often my imagination ran wild with thoughts of someone wanting to do me harm. Needless to say, I didn't sleep very well, and I therefore sought people! So, in the late afternoons, after a day of cycling, and before it got dark, I found a house, knocked on the door and asked if I can put my tent outside in their garden or compound. EVERYBODY has been saying yes! Irrespective of country, culture and religion. Very often they would invite me to join them for dinner, and every time we would sit up until late, talking, learning about each other and the world, connecting, and having the most amazing time ❤️🙏

Menna and her sister and me cycling together in Cairo, Egypt.
She and her amazing family invited me to stay with them for a whole week.
She's also big info promoting cycling for women in Egypt as it's not common,
even discouraged some places. 

As in Egypt. I randomly stayed with a family in a tiny village on the banks of the Nile during Ramadan. When I arrived they were about to break the fast and they inviting me to join them. We had the most amazing meal. Eating delicious local and homemade food from a huge tray placed on the floor in the living room. We all gathered around it, eating together with our hands after washing them. Of course. We spent the whole evening laughing and smiling, being curious and interested in each other. Trying to understand what we were saying, me with my limited Arabic, them with their English dictionary. So nice! It was a party! That night I'm pretty sure I slept in one of the sisters' beds. They wouldn't hear of me putting up my tent. 

The next morning I couldn't find my cycle clothing. When I asked it turned out they had taken them and washed them! Then they asked me if I'd like tea before I got back on the bike. I said that that would be very nice. 'Shukran'. I sat and waited for a long time, the cup of tea was taking it's time. I was starting to wonder why. Then when they came, they came with a huge tray of breakfast for me!! They were fasting, yet they gave me food!!!! Accepting and being fine with me not fasting, fine with us not sharing the same religion. Still genuinely caring for me.

More so, in Kenya, a guy that was walking next to the road one day when I was thinking it was time to find a place to stay, invited me to stay with him and his family when I asked where I could put my tent. I followed him through bushes and over a few small hills, on a dirt path. More like a trail. Then we got to what turned out to be a tiny Maasai village. His wife Florence didn't know I was coming until she saw me but welcomed me with open arms and the biggest smile, literally from the first second! 

In the evening we sat around the indoor fire, drinking the best milk tea, eating beans, their curious cousins that came asking me if I like drinking cow blood, my thoughts on communism vs capitalism! We had such a good time that I couldn't say no to their invitation of staying one more day to join the village celebrating two youths passing their exams! Goats were slaughtered, chapatis were made, huuuuge pots were being pulled out to cater for everyone that came. It was a grand celebration! Everyone so beautifully dressed up in their traditional clothing. Me in the only t-shirt and loose pants I had. 

The granny Rose and I had a special connection. She didn't speak a single word of English, me a few words of Swahili, yet we were communicating at a different level! She asked me if I didn't have anything else to wear? No... She leaned over to another granny and then they said 'Come with us'. They dressed me up as a Maasai! My secret dream! Wow! When we returned to the party, everybody turned their heads, saying how beautiful I was! Haha! Speeches, dancing, FOOD! I was so warmly welcomed and included by everybody. At one point I fell asleep in one of the ladies' lap. I registered that someone put a blanket over me. Caring for me. What a day! 

Jeremiah and Florence and me dressed in traditional Maasai wear

In the evening we were all changing back to our everyday clothing, me returning the beautiful necklaces and bracelets. Without a thought I said I felt empty, that something was missing around my neck. Florence went into the neighboring room. She came back with a necklace. 'This is for you'. For me, this was the ultimate symbol of inclusion!!! I cried when we said our goodbyes. We all did. Everybody saying that they wish that I will one day come back. The grandmother. Rose. I don't know who cried the most, me or her. I walked away, pushing my bike, with tears in my eyes.

This is not even the tip of the iceberg of stories I can tell about the people I've met. I feel like I'm stating the obvious, that I shouldn't have to say this, but we're all the same. We have the same needs, the same wants. We all just want to be happy and included, loved. But we so often forget this when constantly being exposed to the news which solely focuses on the sensational and negative and are often taking things out of context and not telling the whole story. Often in society there's also negative perceptions about certain groups of people that feeds into this discourse, creating distance and misunderstandings between us. In the end, it only hurts us, prevents us from profound and beautiful meetings.

Beauty can be defined in several ways, but what I've come to know as THE definition is this; the love between strangers

Beauty can be defined in several ways, but what I've come to know as THE definition is this; the love between strangers. Countless times I've rocked up at someone's home. We don't speak the same language. I look different. Maybe I'm dirty and a little bit stinky after riding on a gravel road the whole day. Yet people take me in. My first winter in Turkey I didn't sleep outside a single night. When I asked to put my tent outside of people's homes they said it's way too cold to sleep outside, and invited me in, preparing a warm bed for me, shower and food! I don't know what this is, this care, this kindness, generosity, warmth and actually love between strangers. Strangers who at a first glance seem very different. But I genuinely cannot think of anything else in this world that is more beautiful than exactly this. I cycled because of our climate and wanting to reduce my carbon footprint, but not only did the said love enrich the experience, my life, to a previously unimaginable level - it also made this journey possible. Without "strangers" love, my heart would not have been full and I would not have been able to cycle 25,000 kilometers. I'm forever grateful and humbled.

Family in Turkey who let me sleep in their home.

 Friends I made in Haifa, Israel, at the annual event
'The Holiday of Holidays'. It's a celebration of the holidays
of the three main religions in the Haifa; Judaism, Christianity and Islam.
Hanukkah, Christmas and Eid al-Adha to be exact.
The event is intended to encourage the values of coexistence
and mutual respect of all religions in the city
and celebrate the cultural and religious diversity

A fantastic family in South Africa who took me under their roof
during a very cold winter night in the southern hemisphere

 

A boy offered me plums when I got to the top of a mountain in Tanzania. 
Such a welcome sight after a tiring climb.

Meet Karina our First Russian Brand Ambassador

We at Soma don't really go looking for Brand Ambassadors all that often. However we recently picked up Planetarki.ru as a our distributor in Russia. Since Soma is totally new to this huge country, a brand ambassador seemed like a good move. Konstantin of Planetarki connected us with Karina, who may be the only woman working as a bike mechanic in Moscow, maybe all of Russia. She also runs her own bicycle discussion group on VK (Russia's equivalent to Facebook) where she has over 2000 members. A few may have joined to find out who is this woman who imagines herself a real bike expert, but most have no problem with her and are happy to swap experience and knowledge with her. We are honored to have her on board.

Hello! My name is Karina Simonova. I grew up in a small village near Smolensk, at the age of 18 I moved to St. Petersburg to study. There, in a big city, I realized that the best way to get around is a bicycle. So I bought an inexpensive used bike and used it as my main transport. It often broke down, and I, a poor student, had no money for maintenance and repairs. So I had to learn to fix it myself. At first, cycling friends helped me with simple questions, but I mastered more complex repairs myself.

A few years later, I got a job as a salesperson in a bicycle shop. A year and a half ago I moved to Moscow - there I found work as a bicycle mechanic at Mosgorbike.   I am responsible for repairs and warranty service. Rumor has it that I am the only professional female bicycle mechanic in Russia.

 

In order to discuss the issues of repairing my bicycles and share my experience with a wide audience, I organized a community called Karina's Garage on social media. Here I post reviews on bike parts, hiking cycling equipment, and raise not-so-simple topics of women's biking.

 

Over time, various companies began to contact me to test various bike components and write reviews about them in Karina's Garage. Since last summer I have been actively cooperating with the PLANETARKI.RU company. PLANETARKI.RU recently became a distributor of Soma in Russia and they offered me to become an ambassador of this brand in Russia. I got interested because Soma gravel bikes have always impressed me. I have long dreamed of a good steel frame for gravel and touring, and this dream came true in the  Wolverine. The difference with the bicycles I had before is enormous. The Wolverine is like medovukha (an alcoholic drink made with honey) -- strong, but sweet, too. With her, I can handle the asphalt and gravel roads of Russia and abroad. And I am glad to share my experience with Soma products where ever I ride.

 

From the moment the bicycle appeared in my life, work and hobbies have merged into a single whole. Bicycles at work, bicycles at home. My precious vacations also involve cycling! I have traveled in Russia from the White Sea to the Black Sea, was in the Caucasus mountains and Tsimlyansk Sands. I saw bears in the North and itched from insect bites in central Russia. I have participated and volunteered with the Russian ultra-distance self-supported bikepacking race Tour Unite, based on the legendary Tour Divide. 

I dream of starting my own workshop– the name for which I suppose already exists (well, you know what I mean)  and  I wish to have more travel opportunities. I have a bad temper, I draw mediocrely, I sing terribly, but I love my cat and my bicycles with my whole heart. In appreciation to those who will read this boring story to the very end, I drew a picture that depicts everything that I love so much - moving forward, my cat and my new bike Soma Wolverine.

Cape To Kapp: Sudan Was Flat Out Hot

Teresie Hommersand grew up near Stavanger, a city known as the oil capital of Norway. She remembers eating supper every evening off plates with the logo of the national oil and gas company on them. Somehow she became the "green sheep" of the family. She has lived in Uganda, Oregon, and Australia. Learn more about her 13,700 km ride going from South Africa to Norway and her charity crowdfunding campaign on her Facebook page and Instagram.

Unknown challenge ahead

On the 11th of April, I crossed the border to Sudan from Ethiopia on my Soma Saga! So ready for Sudan. So excited!! I had been told it was going to be hot. Very hot. But as I was getting my visa stamped, I had no idea that for the next nine days I would struggle on the bicycle seat in a heat unlike anything I've experienced before. I'm not exaggerating.

Sudanese cycling conditions

Sudan is extremely flat, the roads are long and straight (and at times boring) so I thought I'd easily do 100km in a day on my way to Khartoum. Most likely more. My mistake was to keep on pushing to reach this target, even though the elements were telling me not to. As soon as the sun is up here, it gets hot. Between 11am and 12pm to around 4pm, I'd say it's unbearable on certain days this time of the year.
Most people take it easy during these times.
I was cycling on a bike packed full of stuff.

After about 15 minutes of leaving the filled water bottles on my frame, the water is as hot as tea water. 

Constantly drinking, hardly peeing

Semi desert landscapes. Some shrubbery, the occasional tree. Lots of sand. Vast open landscapes. Blue sky. The regular animal carcass next to the road. On this stretch, I frequently flagged down vehicles to refill my water bottles. It's far between the taps and I didn't want to cycle with an additional 10 litres of water, making my bike super heavy. Pretty much all cars and trucks stop! It's easy. I even had one of the dangerously fast busses hit the brakes and give me cool water. Cool is key. After about 15 minutes of leaving the filled water bottles on my frame, the water is as hot as tea water. I'm not kidding. You are constantly drinking, hardly peeing and do certainly not feel refreshed after a sip. I'd be scared to cycle this stretch in this heat if it wasn't for the possibility of getting water from passing traffic. Very scared.

No escaping the sun

Have you ever had to fix a puncture next to the road at midday, in the scorching sun, with no shade, at 47 degrees celsius? (That's 117 degress F)  The heat influences everything. How you feel, what you think and how you deal with the situations you are in. I fixed this puncture, but upon my second one later this day, I just crawled under a tree that provided a tiny bit of shade (far from enough!!) and laid there. I was even so close to the next village. Less than one kilometre away. I could see houses, but I just could not get myself over there. The heat was too much. I had to wait it out. This is the first time on the trip I've actually laid down next to the road. The warm wind made it even worse. Hotter than a hairdryer! The less limbs you expose to it the less uncomfortable. How do you do that?

Fluctuating emotions

On this stretch, I teared up at least once a day. Once out of hopelessness (the road surface was so bad. It would not end). Several times out of gratitude (as when a truck driver handed me a sesame seed snack in the middle of nowhere in the desert!). A few times as I was feeling sorry for myself.

Celebration!

I had days I was only able to do 34km and 41km. It got a little better once I hit the Nile. One day, to my extreme surprise I did 100km! And finally, I reached Khartoum! My goal. The "desert oasis", where The Blue and White Nile meet. My host had suggested that we meet at Ozone. When I got there, I discovered that it was a full on café with cakes and ice cream!!! How fitting! A cyclist in Sudan's wet dream. I freaking made it!

Cape to Kapp: Rough roads and Lion Tracks in Tanzania

Teresie Hommersand grew up near Stavanger, a city known as the oil capital of Norway. She 
remembers eating supper every evening off plates with the logo of the national oil and gas company on them. Somehow she became the "green sheep" of the family. She has lived in Uganda, Oregon, and Australia. Learn more about her 13,700 km ride going from South Africa to Norway and her charity crowdfunding campaign on her Facebook page and Instagram.
(This is her fifth journal entry for us)

The route I end up taking across the continent on my Soma Saga is a result of the rough plan I made before I started cycling and information I gott along the way, often from random people I meet. Tanzania was meant to be one of two countries in Africa were I would just cycle through. There were no places that I wanted to explore that I had not been before. The plan was to take the shortest route to Nairobi. That would have been along one of the country's most heavily trafficked roads. There are no lack of fatal accidents here. Friends of mine have come across cyclists on this stretch that have been unlucky. I got word of another route, a route a bit further west. Apparently, the traffic was significantly less here and the scenery was stunning. BUT most of this stretch was not paved. After having done the first kilometer on this dirt road one late afternoon, I seriously wondered what in the world I had embarked on. Was it too late to turn around? That night, there was heavy thunder and lightning.

Adjustments and New Challenges

The following day can be summarised in the following words; gravel, sand, rocks, washboard, and bump after bump. My bike and panniers have never been shaken or rattled as much and on a couple of occasions, involuntary words and sounds escaped my mouth in pure frustration and anger. Yes, it is possible to get angry at a road. There was nothing to do but adjust my mindset! No way I was gonna be able to do 100km in a day. Maximum 50. After accepting that the next 400km were going to take me twice as much time and require double the amount of work (at least), I felt better. Besides, that evening I got other things to think about when my random host for the night told me that up ahead was a stretch with lions. How much fun! What is a bumpy road in light of this? That night, I was served ugali (East Africa's "potato" - a stiff maize flour dough) and buffalo meat! The buffalo was killed with a spear, I was told! A few days later when I camped in the compound of a park ranger that was part of an anti-poaching squad, I learned that that buffalo was most likely illegally hunted. Everyone, regardless of nationality, must have a permit to kill game in Tanzania. It is very interesting given that traditionally, many ethnic groups in Tanzania have made a living by hunting game, and some still depend on doing it today to make things go around. That evening I was also served a cup of cow milk-- as fresh as it gets-- straight from the cow. It warmed my hands when I wrapped them around the plastic cup.

 Breakfast! Chapati and chai. This lady gave me some extra maandazi (similiar to a donut, just not as sweet) for the road.

Lion Country

Over the next couple of days of cycling I tried to find out more about the 'lion situation'. I received so much conflicting information! Some looked appalled when I told them I considered cycling through this area alone while others said hakuna matata! No problem! 

When there is so much uncertainty, how can one make the right choice? Should I get an escort? Or just cycle? Jump on a bus even though I really want to cycle the whole day...? At one stage I cried with the thought of encountering a lion. It's a terrible feeling, being afraid to die. To be eaten by a lion.

When I reached where lion territory presumably started I was still not sure what to do. The plan was to make some final inquires in the last village that bordered this area. I cycled past a few houses. Thought this can't be the village, so I continued. Soon, it was just me and the red coloured dirt road again. Trees on both sides and silence. No people. And there... in the middle of the road I suddenly discovered lion tracks. As if a button had been pushed, my heart started racing. The adrenaline pumped through my body like there was no day tomorrow. All my senses were heightened, alert and ready. I got off the bike. I've been told to NEVER run from a lion. You must look her or him in the eyes, make yourself big (have I not mentioned that I'm quite small?), make loud sounds. Make the lion believe that you are bigger and stronger - even though fear is seaping out of your every pore. I could see that the tracks were not super fresh, but it doesn't matter. You are still terrified. TERRIFIED. I had my back against the bike, scanned the terrain. Every bush, every stump. Every rock. 360 degrees, non-stop, searching for a lion. I had my pepperspray hanging around my neck. My knife easily accessible. The DIY flamethrower in my hands - a tip from another cyclist. Lions are afraid of fire.

Who knows how long I stood like this. I didn't see a living creature. No cars or motorcycles that  I could cycle along with. I could not stand like this forever. 

What should I do? Cycle back to the houses I had passed? Keep on going to the next village?

 I ended up turning around. It was three kilometers of backtracking vs 13km to the next civilization. I felt a huge sense of relief when I spotted the houses again. I felt even better when I found a guy who was willing to come with me through 'the lion stretch'. He escorted me with his machete on his hip, a torch and umbrella on the back of his bike and complained that I cycled too fast. No lions. Only monkeys. Who knows, maybe it would have been fine without an escort? Perhaps I could have saved that expense? At the end of the day, it was actually really nice with some company.  

My escort thru lion country.

Welcome to Tanzania! Crossing the border.

Rhythm

Tanzania turned out very differently than planned. It was here I felt that I really got into the rhythm of bicycle touring, no doubt due to the route I ended up taking. The typical African dirt road. The colours. Thunder. Afternoon showers. The warmth and hospitality I was met with after a day's cycle. The best chai (tea). Chapati. Beans. All the rattling. The dust. The lions. The strive on the rough road. The tears. Perhaps all the hardships made the times were everything was flowing freely, the road was smooth (kind of) and fun to ride, the meetings with people were sincere and rewarding even better?

Nothing beats surfing on top of wet sand in the middle of the road, avoiding the streams of water on both sides right after a rain shower. The air and smells are so fresh! The sky so blue. Yellow butterflies fly infront of my wheel like dolphins swim and jump infront of moving boats. I'm smiling. Am happy. Free. Have a sence of achievement. Soon enough the heat will return and the tsetse flies will start biting again... so just enjoy;-)

Cape to Kapp: My Savior on the Salt Flats

Teresie Hommersand grew up near Stavanger, a city known as the oil capital of Norway. She remembers eating supper every evening off plates with the logo of the national oil and gas company on them. Somehow she became the "green sheep" of the family. She has lived in Uganda, Oregon, and Australia. She currently resides in South Africa. We did not sponsor her the Soma Saga DC she is riding, but will be donating to the charities she is trying to bring awareness to. Learn more about her 13,700 km ride going from South Africa to Norway and her charity crowdfunding campaign on her Facebook page and Instagram.

I am so sad!! I don't have any pictures or videos of Morekisi, my saviour from the Makgadikgadi Pans in Botswana - one of the world's largest salt pans [salt flats].

On day one of crossing the pans on my Soma Saga, I broke rule #1: Always carry enough water!! I thought I was in the clear. By my estimation, I would have enough from the last village to the first veterinary gate on the pan. Pierre 'The Pan Rat' and I had agreed that he would drop water for me there. However, when I got to the edge of the pans I had two mouthfuls of water left and no certainty with regards to how far it was to my next 'watering hole'. It was five in the afternoon. The sun would set in an hour. There were dozens of tracks leading onto the pan in all directions. Do I choose the one that seems to be the most travelled? I could be just 30 minutes away from water. But if I'm not, I might get stuck out on the pan with no water overnight. I assumed the likelihood of the next day encountering one of the about five vehicles that daily cross the pans is greater at the edge than out on the pans. If I didn't meet anyone, I could always cycle and push the 43 kg bicycle back across the sandy tracks to the village - although not very tempting. I decided to stay put. My life wasn't immediately threatened– it was just gonna be a very uncomfortable night and possibly following day, with no water and little food. My pasta doesn't cook in dry air.

Just as I was considering what the most strategic place for my tent would be with regards to attracting possible 'four wheeled' travellers passing by, I saw movement on the horizon. Is that a person? ..... ? ..... it looks like it..... ! 

"Hello!!!" I shouted, waved my arms above my head and rang my bicycle bell for the first time on the trip. 

Yes! I think he or she heard me! I started walking towards the silhouette that now seemed to have changed direction and was now heading towards me. We were getting closer to each other. Hi!! Hello! Am I happy to see you!! :-D

And there, I had met Morekisi, a 17 year old boy living alone out on his family's cattle post, looking after his parents farm while the rest of his family was living in town. This is not at all uncommon in Botswana. In this dry, salty, and seemingly inhospitable area he was taking care of cattle, goats, chickens, and now me. The first thing we did after we got to his compound, his clay and straw hut, was to walk to the borehole with a large empty bucket each. On way there, he showed me a snake he had killed the day before and hung up in a tree – a warning to other snakes! On the way back we had to take breaks carrying the heavy buckets of water, quietly admiring the setting sun. A huge, glowing red ball in-between the trees. I was so happy.

The water made me a little unwell. If you're not used to the salt levels in the water out here that can happen. It was anyway better than no water! And how could I not have a good time cooking on the bonfire, under the stars, talking with Morekisi and listening to local tunes that came from the solar powered radio in the neighbouring clay hut, all in the middle of nowhere. We really connected, Morekisi and I. We both just laughed and smiled around the fire the whole evening. He taught me Tswana. Metsi = Water. Mathata = Problem. We both agreed we liked dancing 'too much'. Both of us just kept on putting more wood on the fire, not wanting to go to bed.

The next day, he took me back to the edge of the pans, showed me the tracks to the veterinary gate, and we said our goodbyes. There, at the beginning of the salt pans, where the vastness that lays before you fills you with awe, respect and excitement. I'll never see him again, but I really hope he will always know how special our meeting was for me. Although I'm cycling alone, this trip is all about the people I meet. And now I'm all teary.