Saturday, November 4, 2017

Tanzania and the Art of Motorcycle Riding


4/11/2017 or 11/4/17:  Tanzania and the Art of Motorcycle Riding
    I made a huge discovery yesterday. The foot brake! It’s amazing! There’s this little medal pedal under my right foot…. It’s a brake! I’ve sorta known it was there but just reflexively used the hand brake on the right handlebar to slow or stop, It’s probably muscle memory from bicycle riding. The problem is that I use my right hand for the throttle too. And since my Sanlg 125 cc Chinese bike will always stall out when stopping unless I keep the throttle up, I respond by trying to gas it and brake it with the same hand at the same time. Not easy to do, especially in traffic, on a hill, in the heat, with crowd on the street (and Mzungu always catch street eyes). So, my discovery and my clutsy attempts to stop and still keep the RPMs up all reflect on one of the many reasons I am without doubt the worst motorcycle driver here in Biharamulo.
     The reasons are endless. First, I am a  new rider. Second, I am old and thats not changing. Third, I AM NOT A BIKER!    Mentally, physically or emotionally. Look at me!  Six feet (almost) tall and 150 pounds and a full set of teeth. And those forearms? Tattoo less and sinewy. They will never pose a threat or inflict fear to  anyone in any bar, country or continent on this planet.  The words threatening, intimidating, imposing will never be used to describe me. My skin, teeth and face all lack the weather beaten, grizzled portrait of a road warrior. And lets just face it I am without question the oldest motorcyclist here.
    I do have some excuses for my bad road behavior. First of all this is Tanzania and that does come with some built in problems. First of all, the Brits were here. That means driving is like working inside of a mirror. Every thing is backwards. Drive on the left. A right hand turn in traffic is the most dangerous thing I know.  A left hand turn, no problem. And I don’t know but people passing me on the right is always going to be foreign to me. 
    Then believe it or not. There is some moments of heavy traffic here. When I first came here most people walked or had a Chinese knock off English bicycles. There were white Toyota Land Cruisers owned by NGO's and some locally owned cars. Now its boom time for motorcycles, thousands of them, all Chinese and there are more cars ( Toyotas), less bicycles and no one walks ( thats an exaggeration). 
   And then there are the roads.  Despite the booming economy and and as more “tarmac “covers the roads in Eastern Tanzania everyday Biharamulo roads remain untouched and pockmarked like  the magnified zit covered face of hormone raging teen ager.  These are not just ruts, they are craters! You could get lost in some of them and not come out. There are so bad they have been know to cause hematuria (personal communication). And before I leave the road issue I have to say there is not one street sign or named street here. So yes, I may be the worst /oldest rider here but I never signed up to do the Baja. And while I will get better I will always be the oldest rider here and plan to always drive like one …..driving around at no more then 25MPH with my blinker on. 

    

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