Battle of the Savage (Savage Cyclists Pt 2) 20.12.2019

We have such a cyclist, Callistas Shikanga with such massive thighs

As I stated on my last post, a Savage Cyclist will pass you and make you suffer if you try to catch him. So what happens when the challenged is fit for the challenge? Well, it becomes a spectacular showdown of brute quads and pain resistant hamstrings plus lubricated joints and oils knee caps. A race to prove who has the most juice in their horse like thighs.

I left work early, 3:20 pm, some data delivery to my brother and a quick visit to my mum before heading out to Githurai 45 to buy clear cycling glasses. My eyes had already suffered enough after misplacing my treasured glasses nine days ago. Lucky for me, my old school dealer was still at his usually base. The feeling of having your sights restored to comfortability was enough motivation to sprint back up Kenya's only Superhighway. The Tarmac Torpedo climbed up well till He did His signature deflation. The front tube went near flat on KCA Decend just when I was insynced to smash the last climb to Muthaiga. I fear was that I snapped two rear spokes, that would have explained the wobble feel, but a front punture, that was something new in a very long time. All was well, changing back to back with a Paradise Bus and now it has left me mending a puncture. Not to mention a mud truck that I overtook and outpaced it up the famed Roy Sambu Climb (Which is mighty easy if you ask me), seeing it passing me slowly up the climb at 14kph made me sick. So upside down goes my champion MTB and my tools are now littered on the drainage path covers. I find a tiny sharprel, using the small blade from my camping multi knife i took it out carefully not to shred the tyre's inner threads. Found out it was not the cause of the deflation. A small hole made by the compression of the tube's side onto the tyre made a cataract tear. I made the necessary repair, tubed back the tyre and the Dangerous Predator stood with well filled tyres ready to roar the tarmac.

The ride went awesome, following the same route on my way North East, now heading North West up A104 as I do what I love to do: Chase matatus and pass bicyclist. Then, at Kangemi Bridge, I met a rather serious bicyclist, he looked weary with his pedaling as he maneuvered passed the slowed down double cabin pick-up. I could tell so because his saddle was very high and his pedal-strokes were on point. This is a sprinter, I said to myself. I begin investigating this new challenger and his steed. Steel bike like The Tourist, but lighter. The crank was a chrome light steel triple chainring. My fascination was at the biggest chainring, it looked like a 50t, perfect for brutal acceleration. Right there and then, he earned my respect, so I humbly rode in front him and he registered that I draft behind me. "I'm taking you home, champ." I said to myself. I looked back to see if he read my silent gesture he did. I nodded in acceptance and together we went up the next two kilometers to Kabete Polytechnic. How I should have known that he was just another spinner parasite seeking redemption, for he did the most selfish thing a cyclist can do to another. He felt that since he has recovered behind my splitstream that he can attack and leave me brazing the North East mild crosswinds. "I said I am taking you home, NOW I'M RACING YOU HOME."In angry I vented, the race is now on.

His first mistake: He took advantage of me. His second mistake: He went ahead and a dark Range Rover Discovery and a Mercedes Benz cut him and two motor bikers off, giving me an edge as I zoomed past them on the rough patch of the small diversion to lead the Discovery back to A104. My challenger was hot on my heels as he accelerated as fast as he could to catch me and pass me with humiliative intent. I was NOT going to have any of that for I lost any brotherly love for him. At that moment when I slipped into the Crank Zone, I noticed that we were very similar. Our physiques, bikes' weights and gear ratios of 38*12, all the same. Sam has met his cycling doppelganger, I am now in trouble. He has strength,but does he have a sweet tooth for pain? How slow can he reach his Lactate Threshold? We shall see. The 210 meter Thiongo- N Market Stretch is a beautiful flat perfect to clock high speeds if the mental game and quads strength plus road conditions are at their best. In this case, it was a barbaric situation that required a victor. Caution to the wind, less vehicles to obscure us and the sun bright before our eagle eyes, the pace went up to 45kph. It would be suicide to switch to 48t so I maintained the same gear ratio as him. In hi full attack, he went just 12 inches ahead of me, I lowered my head and crunched my core, diving in for the aerodynamics posture and took back those inches. Time seemed to slow down, neither him nor I was willing to forfeit. 100 meters to go, I see his side is littered with sprinkled glass, this doesn't make him fret.

We push on till 25 meters to go where the highway rises slightly. Funny enough, this tiny rise carries quite a punch, something he learned that day as he slowly started losing to me. Inches became a foot, two feet, three feet, a meter, two meters and the numbers were going up. "What's wrong brother, you are allergic to climbs?" I said to myself as I looked back at him before sprinting further on. I reach the stage before, stretched out my hands to claim my victory. "Yes"in a whispered breathe as I grasped the horn tips and sprinted forward to ensure he does not repeat his initial attack. And like an ashamed animal, he ducked into the market close by. He learned not to fight a cyclist, we are in a different league altogether.

This is such a moment, when the animal in you instinctively goes savage, and when you go all in, go all out, like this future champion

MOst combative rider for the 2019 TDM tour Patoh Patiz Mugu

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