Always something new, we started the morning in the pouring rain. A little chilly, but not bad once we got rolling. After about 20 km I noticed that both my brakes were not engaging. I rode a little longer and then decided it was nuts, cycling without brakes. It was a certain death sentence. Bear and I stopped to analyze the situation. Due to our total mechanical ineptness, we decided we’d better wait for help. Graham came by with CT and Bebes and he tightened up the pads. One brake seemed to be working, so I thought that was good enough to get me to lunch. Little did I know that shortly after a Coke break, at the 50 km mark, my brakes went on the blink again. I realized it, as I was cruising down a bike / walking path. Two guys were walking down the path and I yelled with a tone of panic, “move, no brakes.” The one guy swung around and banged into me, as I tried to pass on the inside. I was jolted into a 10″ cement barrier and then tumbled over the bars into the highway. Luckily, there was a shoulder on the road and I avoided a catastrophe. A little road rash, a few sore muscles, I seemed to be all in one piece. However, my front wheel looked like a piece of twisted spaghetti. There was only two more riding days until our extended rest in Livingstone, so with no bike to ride and a weary beat up body, it was likely best to get a jump on the rest days. I hired a car to take Max Chiswick, (hurt earlier in the week), and I into the Vic Falls area…..So get a load of this; the driver shows up 1 1/2 hours late and then proceeds to run out of gas after 30 km. Only in Africa.