Today, I took a long solo bike ride heading east from the camp for about an hour or two. After the first twenty minutes or so, the villages began to disappear, giving way to dense forests, scrubby bush, and wide open fields. The hills were like roller coasters; I kept having to shift gears from 6 to 7 to 8 and then quickly back down to 6 again. Rain clouds threatening torrential downpours flirted from a distance. I saw many small and curious-looking reptiles on the path, perhaps the last vestiges of the prehistoric dino-era. They would always glance furtively over their shoulder and then scurry off into the nearby shrubs before I could really get a good look at them. On the way back, after rolling over the crest of the last daunting hill, I discovered three children playing barefoot on the side of the road, clad in Sunday dresses which had been soiled by post-church adventuring. One of the girls, no older than 11, began to run next to me. The others quickly followed suit. I began to gain speed, but they never let me pass them. The air smelled of dew and the surrounding foliage and roasted cassava. I carefully pulled my arms up and off the handle bars, mimicking wings as I flew through the air. The girls began to giggle wildly and emulate my gestures, while they continued to run. We laughed the whole way to Kala Camp, as we imagined flying through the clouds.
Sigh.... Another perfect Sunday afternoon.
