After the hike I found a nice plate of attieke in the village of Maci. I am starting to find attieke repetitive to some extent, because it is very commonly the one meal that will be available in a small town. But when I’m hungry, like I was today, I don’t mind. And the fish is always good.

Roads today are by and large pretty darn good. There are some rocky and potholed patches, but mostly they are smooth gravel. After the hike I head east and cross the highway, and set my sights on a town called Ditinn, which is a sous-prefecture, and near a waterfall of the same name that’s supposed to be huge and epic.

As I ride the clouds looked a little menacing, but its still March. It's not going to rain... right? And then at about 4:30, to my great surprise, I hear some lightning. No more than 10 minutes later, a gust of wind, sudden burst of cool air (which is so refreshing), and it starts raining. More than a sprinkle, but certainly not one of the torrents that characterize the monsoon season. I am in the middle of the bush when this happens, and take shelter under some trees. It lasts about 25 minutes. All the bags on my bike are waterproof. So I just put everything from my pockets into the bike bags and wait it out. I absolutely love the rain here.

Post rain, it’s amazing how different things feel. The forest is more green, the trees are bigger, the bush is vaster. It’s a different world. These changes also coincides with me moving south into some more lush, forested areas, but it’s really hard to distinguish that from the way a real rain, the first since early November, changes the landscape.

The air is clear and cool. The world is indescribably beautiful. With the rain, the world moves even farther away from being expressible through photos. Rain changes everything. The coolness changes your view of the world, things smell different, sensory experiences are somehow more vivid. I can’t describe it.

It continues to drizzle just slightly as I continue the ride. The trails and roads are tackier now, and I feel amazing, refreshed and invigorated by the cool air. And the villages I pass through are, despite feeling pretty bush, relatively quite nice. There are power lines running out to the communities. I see more cars around here than usual. I don’t know why but this feels like a relatively nice part of Guinea.

I get to the town of Ditinn a little before dusk. There is a guy selling beef stew. He’s such a nice old dude. I get a $2 bowl, which is a high roller move. It’s very good.

At this point I have to make a decision. I’m not going to get to the waterfall tonight. It’s about another 5 km south, and then some kind of hike. I don’t know how close I can get my bike to the falls. I could easily find a host in this cheery little town, but I feel like camping. So, I go to the center of town in search of some food to bring with me. I can't believe my eyes. A lady is selling prewrapped bean sandwiches. They look loaded with beans too. I couldn’t have asked for better camping food.

I get two sammys, a few bananas, fill my water, and set out. On Google maps I’ve identified some big open fields with scattered groves of trees. In the last of the day’s light I ride out into these fields.

It’s so unbelievably gorgeous here. The plateau from which the waterfall drops, stands imposingly on the southern horizon. To the east, behind some other mountains there is still the occasional far-off glimpse of lightning. But I hear no thunder. I think I’ll be fine (I don't have a rainfly). I find a flat spot tucked away against a grove on the edge of a big field. Gotta be one of my best campsites on this trip. In the morning I’ll eat two bean sandwiches and check out a huge waterfall. Tomorrow is also the first day or Ramadan. It will be interesting to see how that changes things.