Lucky Old Sun

GHANA

Accra to Koforidua

We are a small group, six Americans and five Ghanaians. One of the purposes of our trip is to promote women’s cycling in Ghana. The head of the women’s cycling group, Vida, is riding with us as are Toka and Vivian, the youngest members of our group. Ben is our local tour guide and Charles is our driver. Lon Haldeman is running the tour. I’ve ridden on rides in the past with Susan Rosenblatt and Len Zawodniak. Susan Wells and Charles Breer are veterans of other PacTours.

We sent measurements of our bikes ahead of our arrival so Lon and Ben could coordinate buying used bikes for us to ride on this tour. Today we tested these machines on our first ride. It turned out that two bikes had problems with crank arms and another couple with tire problems. First day glitches let’s call it. At the end of the ride the idea is that we will donate our bikes to the women’s program.

The riding conditions were pretty much what we expected: temperatures in the 80’s, humid and sunny most of the day. We’re not used to the heat and humidity this time of the year. So we use electrolyte tablets and drink plenty of water. And sweat a lot.

When we started riding, the reality of where we are and what we’re doing begins to sink in. The plethora of stimuli is immense. Odd vegetation, vendors all along the roads, people calling out in various languages (there are 77 in Ghana), unfamiliar driving habits, drivers unfamiliar with sharing the road, unique food, new smells, and riding a bike you’re not familiar with. Lots of sensory load.

Much more on some of those stimuli later. I have to tell you about my faux pas. When I reached the rotary at kilometer 47 on today’s ride I read the route card, which said, “Adaso…traffic circle..market…no shoulder”. I stopped and thought about the directive. My interpretation was that since there was no turn suggested, I should proceed straight ahead. There were two choices, a right turn and straight ahead. Using my male directional superiority gene, I decided not to ask directions, but to trust my “gut”. Three miles later I was looking for the next landmark, blue roof house on the left. Sure enough, it was there. More of a shack really, but definitely a blue roof. I rode on. After the market landmarked at km 49 failed to materialize, I rode another kilometer then seeing no sign of a market, succumbed to asking for directions. Luckily, most Ghanaians speak some English. After speaking with a group of 5 or 6 locals who seemed to appear out of nowhere I was convinced that there was no road to my destination other than that one back at the rotary. So, chalk up another twelve kilometers in the cost of the directional superiority gene. Lesson learned? Maybe temporarily.

Pictures from today: