Repairs & Preparations

[ Abidjan, Cote d’Ivoire ]

As the previous blog posts (mostly) explain, I’ve several technical setbacks—camera, computer, smartphone, and website. Most of them came wekk after my ride was back in tip-top shape for the road. A frustrating setback.

This post is for those of you out there who prefer visual content, with more images than the descriptive posts. It’s a collection of photos dealing with the technical upgrades, the bike’s return to form, and Zach Lewis’ frightening mug. Because I have to return the gift I was given. 😉

As usual, the captions contain any relevant stories or details.

—jim

Repairs & Preparations

This is a bit out of order, but it's the view from the back balcony of the medical clinic, past the local mosque, to the small multi-story building where I've been living. The red circle shows you the balcony that I have pretty much to myself, except when the children from Church of Christ possess it each Sunday morning. I've spent a LOT of time in this neighborhood, and I'll likely be hearing prayers from this mosque in my dreams for the rest of my life.
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Trying hard to escape town, after a final visit with some online friends (Portuguese cyclists I'd been messaging for 6 months or more as they also explored West Africa). This was the final step: a new chain, some bending and adjusting of my rear derailleur. Shockingly enough, after they tried a few times to sell me refurbished chains, I ended up with a brand new Shimano Deore chain. Exactly the correct one for my drivetrain. I think I paid about $9 for the chain AND the labor. Also: nice morning ride in insane traffic. Get's the blood pumping!
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Me, ready to leave town. My only plan was (1) good night's sleep (2) some nice photos of my temporary roommates the next morning on my way out of town. I took the bike downstairs, loaded it up exactly as you see here, and proceeded to take those photos.
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Pre-CameraDeath Image #3. For a couple of weeks, there was a fluctuating group of men sharing the apartment where I stay. They were spending time here for some kind of leadership training at their church, but I shared evening meals with them and came to enjoy their good humor and company. As you'll see in the next big post, this floor is directly above where I live, and on Sundays is where the congregation meets.
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Pre-CameraDeath Image #2 Lessons, notes, names, numbers from the leadership conference. Nearing the death of my beloved Sony a5000--the camera I learned on, and that accompanied on every nutty journey from Mongolia until now.
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Pre-CameraDeath Image #1 Another of my roommates for a couple of weeks. These are the guys I was trying to photograph extensively The Day...the cam---ra Died. (If you didn't hear that to the tune of The Day the Music Died, SHAME ON YOU!!!!)
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CameraDeath Image, One and Only. As the blog post explains, after some jittering and shaking and general complaining, this is what I ended up with. No bueno. Pas bien.
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While trying to figure out how to replace or repair my dead camera, I ended up in a glitzy modern mall, with a very well-stocked super market. A potential solution to my current malaise suggested itself on aisle 4. 🙂 I made another choice, but man did aisle 4 look good. (There was top-shelf, boutique gin a little further down. Hell yeah.)
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Also while trying to figure out how to replace or repair my dead camera, my computer's power supply died. Insult to injury and all that. This guy ended up rebuilding the connector from scratch, thus saving Jim's overexposed bacon.
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And by "this guy" I mean Mutiu. A Nigerian electrician living and working in Ivory Coast since, well, forever.
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Mutiu's workbench. I don't know why I liked the subtly threatening, naked camera so much, but I did.
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I liked it so much I processed the image thrice. Just because.
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This makes thrice.
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My only contribution to the life-saving repair was this diagram I made from a YouTube video. The little bits on the bottom right are the fried bits from inside the connector that he had to remove and build around.
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Some days later, after a couple of my most amazing supporters made a new camera happen AND get shpped overseas (THANKS LEE! THANKS AMY! THANKS ZACH!) this baby arrived. Well, that's a lie. First it arrived at customs. Then they tried to extort a crap-ton of additional money out of me. Then a local photography studio owner drove me to the airport, faced off with customs, charmed an incredible customs officer into helping me, and drove me back to town. (Three hours away from his busy studio were involved). At this point, you should be pickin' up what I've been throwin' down for about seven years: people. freakin'. ROCK!
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My amazing new photography jam, a Sony a6300. Notice how the display isn't just an angry white rectangle? Yeah. Me too.
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And yeah, one final, really frightening thing. This is what happens when you ask one of your best friends in the world to take a look at your new-used camera and test it out. What happens is he does so, then ships it out to you, then it arrives on the other side of the globe, then you open it up, turn it on, and find THIS FACE glare-staring at you. It could disrupt your sleep cycle for an indefinite period. Or so I've heard. Not that *I* would know!
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The Transglobalist
Photographer, cyclist, paraglider pilot, backpacker, skydiver, writer, explorer, musician, hitchhiker, digital nomad, and American dissident.

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Repairs & Preparations

Repairs & Preparations

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