I counted just 32 days to go to Hanoi on my phone as of yesterday. Because I am horribly behind on longer distance training, I commenced panicking.
Jenny told me to relax, according to the calendar on the kitchen wall, which is entirely more accurate than my phone, we still had 45 days to go. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, but double-checked Jenny’s count just in case, and it turns out, I was right, she was wrong, and Jenny has also commenced panicking. It also explains why the soft- boiled eggs in our house are always hard.
Despite the miscount, our preparations remain on track, sort of, apart from a rat which ate a big bloody hole in my bike travel bag, and also the front of my bike conked out last week when I tried to mount my new GPS bike computer.
Because they taught us how to fix stuff with duct tape at Allan Wilson Technical High School, I was able to repair the bike bag, but my efforts to mount the bike computer went less well.
Because the user guide for the bike computer is written entirely in Chinese, I saw fit to remove the handlebars to mount the device. With the benefit of hindsight, that was a poor decision, and my front wheel and shocks fell off, and a multitude of ball races, spacers, dust covers and other widgets ended up strewn all over the lawn. I then compounded my error by trying to fix my error. After consulting YouTube at length, I coaxed the widgets back into the pipe from whence they came, I got the front forks back on the bike and pointing in the right direction, eventually , and I even mounted the GPS, but the bike made horrible noises from the front forks on our maiden voyage, even though I had my music turned up loud, to the point where the bike didn’t want to turn corners anymore.
I bravely disassembled the front of the bike for the second time when I got home, this time bit by bit, and put even more grease on the widgets, but the bike still made horrible noises and refused to corner. So, I’ve fetched the bike to Harare to an expert, and I am now playing catch-up long-distance training on my stationary bike, less than fondly named Root Canal.
I’ve been stranded on Root Canal for a week now, and have been brutally reminded that I hate it more than broccoli, and if it kills me before I get my bike back, I’m going to leave it to someone I don’t like in my will.
But looking for positives, the duct tape repairs on my bike bag are holding, and my new Made in China GPS performed admirably on our maiden voyage, unlike my old Garmin.
Apologies to Donald Trump, but my reasons for buying Chinese were threefold. Unlike my Garmin, my new GPS doesn’t conserve battery power by switching off every 15 seconds, and when I do get lost in Vietnam, I stand a better chance of bumping into someone who can read an instruction manual written in Chinese, than one written in American, and it cost less than a third of the price of a new Garmin.
We are riding the Old Legs Tour 2026, Vietnam to Vic Falls to raise money and awareness for Zimbabwe’s pensioners and for the Friendship Bench
Please be proudly introduced to my teammates, Howard Thompson from New Zealand, and also my cousin Hanny from Holland, not to be confused with My Cousin Vinnie, the movie.
Both Howard and Hanny are serial Old Legs offenders. Please be invited to follow our adventure on Facebook and social media, and please also help us help others by following the donate prompts below.
The photo – Howard Thompson, Mark Johnson, Mike Weeden and Alan Crundall at Flinders Station after finishing last year’s Yarra Valley Ride – Howard and Mark will both be riding the Vietnam Tour and Mark will continue to ride the Bulawayo – Vic Falls tour via Hwange Game Reserve!
For the pensioners- https://www.gofundme.com/f/old-legs-tour-2026-vietnam-to-victoria-falls
Until my next blog, Have Fun, Do Good, Do Epic- Eric Chicken Legs de Jong
* Names and images may have been changed for privacy reasons
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