Jehova School Camp to Livingston Zambia (truck and bus).

657km 12 hrs 60kph avg.

I have struggled mightily this past week. First the Flu, then riding a couple of days sick with the fast guys on a borrowed Bike over a hundred miles a day. Then getting sicker and then sicker. Afraid of not pulling my weight in the group. Afraid of not cutting it.

Then deciding to take a day off. And another. Finally deciding to bus ahead to Livingston. Bacterial Infection in the lungs, what I had started with 2 1/2 months ago but now with the Flu.

Rest.

Having coffee, 2 Kwacha, or 20 cents.

I sit here, at a bus station in Lusaka, I am moved, almost to tears, with the sudden realization that this whole journey has been a discovery of letting go, of expectations, of embracing change and welcoming what I thought may be quitting but found instead was actually a victory.

My friend Agnes, a 64 year old, tough as nails, Swiss Woman has been sick too, and forced to rest. I know she is tough as I saw her peddle her heavy bike 8 or 9 hours a day through long, hard, rough, and wet days. 5000 miles she went.

Without this time, and alternate mode of travel, of experiencing change and failure, I would not have been able to have this realization.

I am grateful that I have been brought a little closer to understanding what this journey is really about.

Bus terminal.

Zambian girls.

Agnes.

The boys L to R Marty, Craig, Me, Richard, Neil enroute to Lusaka.

Live life today, top up here.

Spectacular evening clouds.

Early morning with Richard and Craig preparing to ride.

Early morning mists.

Agnes and I at ten minute stop. An hour before I leaned out the window of the bus to shout encouragement to some of the riders as we passed and my last pair of clear prescription glasses were swept off my face. I lost the other set in Ethiopia. When I told Agnes she and I started laughing until we had coughing fits. What else can you do?