Chapter 1: A Question Nobody Took SeriouslyWhat if I rode the Race Around Rwanda—an ultra-distance, 1,000 km bikepacking race—on a folding bike?
Most people laughed.
Not a polite chuckle either—more like a “yeah, sure mate” followed by a sip of beer and a slow head shake. And fair enough. Rwanda isn’t exactly known as “The Land of Flat, Forgiving Roads.”
But I wasn’t drawn to the race for competition.
For me, it was always about the adventure.
And somehow, when I pitched the idea to my boss at Ahooga—a Belgian folding bike company—he didn’t just approve it… he loved it.
That’s when things got real.
Takeaways
Chapter 2: Building the Wrong Bike for the Right JobIf I was going to do this, the bike needed help.
We took the Ahooga Max—a 20-inch folding commuter bike—and gave it a fighting chance:
But it was ready.
Sponsors came on board—partly in support, partly out of curiosity to see if I’d survive.
Honestly? Fair.
Takeaways
Chapter 3: The Airport DebacleBefore the race even began, things started falling apart—literally.
My bike box:
Parts were missing. Others were scattered across the runway. One piece ended up in someone else’s bike box.
A stranger eventually tracked me down via group chat to return it.
He demanded a proper thank-you before handing it over.
He got one.
The beer I had prepared for him?
I drank it myself.
Takeaways
Chapter 4: The Wrong “Tugende”The next morning, I needed two simple things:
What I meant: a well-known cycling hub.
What he heard: “Let’s go.”
After a long walk, I found myself in a dusty alley, surrounded by a group of men staring at my folding bike like it had just landed from space.
This was not a bike shop.
This was… something else.
Chapter 5: The Mechanic CrewBefore I could react, they took my bike apart.
Tools included:
It looked like surgery performed with camping gear.
And yet…
Somehow…
They fixed it.
Takeaways
Chapter 6: Welcome to RwandaRwanda is stunning:
Everything takes forever.
Ordering food?
Bring patience.
A quick coffee?
Not happening.
You might as well order lunch while eating breakfast.
Takeaways
Chapter 7: The Race BeginsAt 4 AM, 150 riders rolled out of Kigali.
Within 40 km, I was alone.
The top riders?
I was just trying to survive the hills… on a folding bike.
Takeaways
Chapter 8: Lost, Hungry, and Always WatchedThree constants defined my ride:
1. Navigation problems
My GPS didn’t work.
Google Maps barely helped.
I rode hundreds of extra kilometers in the wrong direction.
2. Food scarcity
Finding food was unpredictable.
Sometimes: nothing.
Sometimes: crackers and warm soda.
3. Zero privacy
Stopping meant instant attention.
Crowds formed within seconds.
I was the attraction.
Takeaways
Chapter 9: The Night Ride MistakeAfter 100 km, exhausted and starving, I made a bad decision:
“Sure, let’s do another 90 km. At night.”
What followed:
And clarifying.
Takeaways
Chapter 10: Rwanda at NightSurprisingly, nights weren’t dangerous.
They were… peaceful.
Instead of chaos:
No excess.
Just life.
Takeaways
Chapter 11: Breaking PointAfter days of:
Flat tire.
Wrong direction.
Covered in… things I’d rather not identify.
I called the race organizer.
“I think I’m done.”
Takeaways
Chapter 12: Choosing Adventure Over SufferingOnce the race was over, something changed.
The pressure disappeared.
I kept riding—but now:
Takeaways
Chapter 13: Into the JungleOne last ride through Nyungwe Forest:
Perfect ending.
Takeaways
Chapter 14: The Folding Bike Wins (Sort Of)The result?
So did I.
Final Thoughts: The Lantern RougeI didn’t win.
I didn’t finish.
I was the Lantern Rouge—the last rider.
But:
It’s a better story this way.
Final Takeaways
Most people laughed.
Not a polite chuckle either—more like a “yeah, sure mate” followed by a sip of beer and a slow head shake. And fair enough. Rwanda isn’t exactly known as “The Land of Flat, Forgiving Roads.”
But I wasn’t drawn to the race for competition.
For me, it was always about the adventure.
And somehow, when I pitched the idea to my boss at Ahooga—a Belgian folding bike company—he didn’t just approve it… he loved it.
That’s when things got real.
Takeaways
- Not all crazy ideas are bad—some just need the right audience.
- Adventure doesn’t have to start with confidence—just curiosity.
- If people laugh, you might be onto something.
Chapter 2: Building the Wrong Bike for the Right JobIf I was going to do this, the bike needed help.
We took the Ahooga Max—a 20-inch folding commuter bike—and gave it a fighting chance:
- Swapped the internal hub for a derailleur
- Added a dynamo for power
- Installed suspension components
- Mounted custom bikepacking bags
- Bolted on tribars for comfort
But it was ready.
Sponsors came on board—partly in support, partly out of curiosity to see if I’d survive.
Honestly? Fair.
Takeaways
- Preparation doesn’t guarantee success—but it makes failure more interesting.
- You don’t need perfect gear—just gear you understand.
- Sometimes “good enough” is the best you’ve got.
Chapter 3: The Airport DebacleBefore the race even began, things started falling apart—literally.
My bike box:
- Flagged as an e-bike → unpack everything
- Too heavy → unpack again
- Too taped → unpack again
Parts were missing. Others were scattered across the runway. One piece ended up in someone else’s bike box.
A stranger eventually tracked me down via group chat to return it.
He demanded a proper thank-you before handing it over.
He got one.
The beer I had prepared for him?
I drank it myself.
Takeaways
- Travel humbles you quickly.
- Always expect chaos when flying with a bike.
- Gratitude is good—but it shouldn’t come with conditions.
Chapter 4: The Wrong “Tugende”The next morning, I needed two simple things:
- A bike mechanic
- An ATM
What I meant: a well-known cycling hub.
What he heard: “Let’s go.”
After a long walk, I found myself in a dusty alley, surrounded by a group of men staring at my folding bike like it had just landed from space.
This was not a bike shop.
This was… something else.
Chapter 5: The Mechanic CrewBefore I could react, they took my bike apart.
Tools included:
- A hammer
- Pliers
- Confidence
It looked like surgery performed with camping gear.
And yet…
Somehow…
They fixed it.
Takeaways
- Skill doesn’t always look like you expect.
- Trusting strangers can be terrifying—and sometimes rewarding.
- There’s more than one way to fix a problem (even if it looks wrong).
Chapter 6: Welcome to RwandaRwanda is stunning:
- Endless green hills
- Friendly, curious people
- Clean roads
- A calm, safe atmosphere
Everything takes forever.
Ordering food?
Bring patience.
A quick coffee?
Not happening.
You might as well order lunch while eating breakfast.
Takeaways
- Time works differently depending on where you are.
- Slowing down isn’t always optional.
- Expectations are the real obstacle.
Chapter 7: The Race BeginsAt 4 AM, 150 riders rolled out of Kigali.
Within 40 km, I was alone.
The top riders?
- 300–400 km per day
- Minimal sleep
- Maximum intensity
I was just trying to survive the hills… on a folding bike.
Takeaways
- Not everyone is playing the same game.
- Comparison is pointless when your goals are different.
- Pace yourself—literally and mentally.
Chapter 8: Lost, Hungry, and Always WatchedThree constants defined my ride:
1. Navigation problems
My GPS didn’t work.
Google Maps barely helped.
I rode hundreds of extra kilometers in the wrong direction.
2. Food scarcity
Finding food was unpredictable.
Sometimes: nothing.
Sometimes: crackers and warm soda.
3. Zero privacy
Stopping meant instant attention.
Crowds formed within seconds.
I was the attraction.
Takeaways
- Navigation is not optional—it's survival.
- Simplicity becomes luxury when you're exhausted.
- Being seen constantly changes how you experience a place.
Chapter 9: The Night Ride MistakeAfter 100 km, exhausted and starving, I made a bad decision:
“Sure, let’s do another 90 km. At night.”
What followed:
- Total darkness
- Endless climbing
- A disappearing riding partner
- Mild fear of hippos
And clarifying.
Takeaways
- Exhaustion leads to bad decisions.
- Know your limits—and respect them.
- Not every challenge is worth accepting.
Chapter 10: Rwanda at NightSurprisingly, nights weren’t dangerous.
They were… peaceful.
Instead of chaos:
- People sewing
- Cooking
- Fixing things
- Kids playing
No excess.
Just life.
Takeaways
- Safety isn’t always where you expect it.
- Simplicity can feel richer than excess.
- Perspective changes everything.
Chapter 11: Breaking PointAfter days of:
- Getting lost
- Climbing endless hills
- Falling behind
- Riding alone
Flat tire.
Wrong direction.
Covered in… things I’d rather not identify.
I called the race organizer.
“I think I’m done.”
Takeaways
- Quitting isn’t always failure—it can be clarity.
- Persistence has limits—and that’s okay.
- Sometimes the smarter move is to stop.
Chapter 12: Choosing Adventure Over SufferingOnce the race was over, something changed.
The pressure disappeared.
I kept riding—but now:
- Skipping brutal sections
- Exploring more
- Enjoying the landscape
Takeaways
- Removing pressure restores joy.
- Goals can evolve—and should.
- Finishing isn’t always the point.
Chapter 13: Into the JungleOne last ride through Nyungwe Forest:
- Monkeys watching from trees
- Soldiers guarding the road
- Mud, chaos, and a full crash
Perfect ending.
Takeaways
- Nature doesn’t care about your plans.
- Crashes make the best stories.
- If you’re not a little out of control, you’re not really in it.
Chapter 14: The Folding Bike Wins (Sort Of)The result?
- ~600 km completed
- No major mechanical failures
- One flat tire
- Countless wrong turns
So did I.
Final Thoughts: The Lantern RougeI didn’t win.
I didn’t finish.
I was the Lantern Rouge—the last rider.
But:
- I rode Rwanda on a folding bike
- I got lost more times than I can count
- I experienced something most racers never did
It’s a better story this way.
Final Takeaways
- The best stories rarely come from perfect plans.
- Adventure isn’t about winning—it’s about experiencing.
- Sometimes doing it the “wrong way” makes it unforgettable.
