The Girl, The Freerider and the Sabie Xperience

The Girl, the Freerider and the Sabie Xperience

Right at the bottom of the short downhill the Girl finally caught the two riders that she and her teammate, the Freerider, were chasing up the previous climb. Only to be cut off by one of them as she turned into the corner. "Sorry, girls", the offending rider said as he caught the Girl's eye just before he sped off into the next climb.
"Sorry girls, my @ss", muttered the Freerider to himself.
"And what a nice one when he's wearing lycra, too", the Girl thought as she stood up to attack the hill.
There was a monster inside the Freerider this morning that the Girl has never seen before. He switched to a higher gear, ordered the Girl to sit down so that he could push her up the hill, and within minutes they caught up with, and then left the two chased riders behind. That done, the next target came into view. Off they sped to catch them too.
The skies were blue, the forests lush and shiny green after the torrential rain of the previous day, the climbs steep and technical, the single track slippery and exciting. Once or twice the Girl thought that a hill was too steep or too technical for her abilities, but the Freerider talked her up every hill and over every obstacle.
It was the final stage of the Sabie Xperience that started 3 days earlier. D&D were well represented at the event. Among others, Flash, Vlam, Eve, CarbonCarel, DeeKay, Sergeant Skills, Thug, Glen and Sybrand were all seen in teams of various abilities. Some would chase glory; others would just aim to make the cut-offs; yet others were training for Sani2C.
******
The first three stages would look roughly the same: 450 teams of two riders each would climb up a mountain for the first half of the stage, and then scream down the mountain during the second half.
And the mountains in Sabie are huge. The first stage saw the riders negotiating a total vertical ascent (and corresponding descent, of course) of about 1700 meters over 78 kilometers of technical climbs, jeep tracks, breathtaking single track over roots, through mud and river crossings, lots of warnings about 'extreme danger' and everything else that makes mountain bikers grin - never taking the chicken runs. There's a fundamental thing about single track that has to go downhill, that the organizers of the Sabie Xperience fully understood.
The second stage was going to be the hardest day with a total ascent of 1800 meters over 82 kilometers. "You're not in Granny, if that was your plan", the Freerider said. The mud of the previous day started to take its toll on the drive train of the Girl's dirty bicycle.
Stop. Fix gears. Climb.
Chain suck. Stop. Lube. Climb.
Flash passing with the traditional pat on the back.
Chain off. Stop. Fix. Climb.
Chain suck again. Stop. Wash with water. Lube again. Climb.
Up, up and up. Forever higher.
Finally a water point would come into view, or a spectator point, or a marshal telling you to go left, down, and not right, up. But the next marshal would never be too far away, telling you to go right, and up.
Chain off. Stop. Fix. Climb.
No granny gear. Stop. Clean. Lube. Manually put into a gear - any gear. Climb.
Finally the Freerider's bike's derailleur would have none of the mud no more.
Stop. Manually put into a gear. Climb. The Freerider was riding a single speed now, and climbing faster than ever.
Catch up with old roadie cycling friends from a previous lifetime. Chat. Climb.
Chain suck. Stop. Lube. Climb.
And then, finally, the downhill.
Oooh, but the Girl's breaks don't work so lekker any more. The Freerider controlled the speed by breaking his own bicycle with one hand at breakneck-speed, negotiating the surface marked with 'extreme danger' warnings while holding onto the Girl's backpack, breaking her speed with his other hand.
Another afternoon nap. Another prize giving. Another race briefing: The third stage was going to be 65 kays with a total vertical ascent of 1600 meters. Another big fire, another something on the Braai and another re-telling of the day's war-stories. Clean the bicycles, replace cables, lube, and get ready for the next stage.
Somewhere during the night the girl woke up to the sound of a rainstorm.
The third day broke wet and … well, wet. The start was delayed while the race organizers checked the route safety, altering it here and there to bypass dangerous sections and moving marshals accordingly. The rivulet on the way to the start was a raging torrent. The Girl discovered that her shifters, which were working fine the previous evening, now refused to move. The race started while the Girl bought more cables from the bike shop. The Freerider replaced the cables, and off they went, about ten minutes after the last group left. Catch up with the last riders, and then get into the rhythm of the previous day:
Chain suck, stop, lube, climb.
Mud in eyes, stop, clean, climb.
Catch up with buddies, chat, chain suck, stop, lube, climb.
Get hungry, stop, buddies catch up, chat, eat, climb.
Forever higher.
"The water point should be just around the corner", the Freerider said. And then the race was over. Stopped due to dangerous water levels. Just like that.
Wait at the water point, take pictures of seriously dirty people, eat some watermelon, and then ride home in convoy with people even dirtier than the Freerider, if it was possible. There would be no single-track downhills today.
The Girl's V-brakes were non-existing, so the Freerider had to act as breaks again. It was difficult to control the speed in the convoy, so they moved to the back of the field where the margin for error was a little bigger. Then the mud collected between the v-brakes and the front wheel. The wheel would not move. Try to unblock the mess. The Girl and the Freerider were now stone last – again. With the sweep vehicle right beside them, they started to chase down the other teams. A downhill at last, no breaks required here. Catch up with other riders. Get rid of the sweep vehicle. Chain suck. Stop. Chain stuck thoroughly. Wash. Lube. Untangle the stubborn chain. Sweep vehicle on their tails again. Chase down the other riders. Tar road, a few climbs, and finally drop the sweep vehicle.
Then the Freerider saw the turn-off to the Mac-Mac falls on their left. He always wanted to cycle down that path, and here they were, with their bicycles. So off they went. It's interesting going down there without breaks. Gaze at the waterfall, then cycle up the path again - far easier this time, because there's no need for breaks to control speed when you go uphill.
Back on the tar road again – and out of nowhere, the sweep vehicle appeared on their tails again. Chase down the other cyclists. Catch one. Catch another one. Then a few more. Puncture. Stop. Fix puncture. (The roadie tube that the Girl carried in her backpack for 3 days proved useless.) Chase down the last rider again. Alas, too late. Three official vehicles escorted the Girl and the Freerider to the finish.
Another afternoon nap. Another prize giving. Another race briefing: The last day would be a time trail of 24 kays with a total vertical ascent of 500 meters. There would be individual start times; if you start late, that time gets accumulated to your race time, and the original cut-off would still apply. Get some hamburgers at a local place, and then go back to replace the gear cables, break cables (on the Girl's bike) and brake pads (on the Freerider's bike). By 11 everything's done. Lock up the bicycles, set the alarm, and go to bed.
The next morning, the Freerider's bicycle was nowhere to be found. Roberto's bike also disappeared. Lots of admin to report the theft, take stock of other lost stuff, cancel lost credit cards, bankcards and cell phones.
All done, about 45-odd minutes after their start time, the Freerider turned to the Girl. "Are we gonna ride?"
"Where to", asked the Girl.
"The Sabie Xperience, that's what we're here for", the Freerider replied.
So he borrowed a bicycle. Their bladders were gone. There was no time for breakfast, but they still had helmets and apples, and it was only 24 kays. Off to the start, now almost an hour late.
There was a monster in the Freerider that morning. The skies were clear, the forests lush and shiny green, the climbs steep and technical, the single track slippery and exciting. And while they were out there, they could forget that someone unknown had been in their tent, right next to where they were sleeping. There was no other reality. There was only now. It was just the borrowed hardtail, the hills, the single tracks, the forest, the new maximum heart rate, the marshal telling you to go up, and other riders to chase down.
The full Sabie Xperience. Every bit of it.
**********
Thank you to the Freerider, who makes an excellent riding partner and despite being too strong for his own good, allowed the girl to climb at her own speed, and talking her over every obstacle and hill.
Thank you to Werner who gave up his own race and offered his bicycle when the Free Rider was on his way to the bike shop to rent a bicycle to finish the race with.
Thank you to Roberto and all the other people whose cell phones the Girl used to make various calls to cancel various stuff, and the pocket money he provided so that we could get home :)
Thank you to Vlam, Eve, Deekay, Rob, Werner, Glen, Cecil, Sybrand, Jan and everyone else who shared the Sabie Xperience with us - the braais, the hamburgers, the race briefings, the sprite zeroes … for your share in making it one of the most memorable weekends of the year (for various reasons)

For next year, I wish myself another dose of people like yous :)

Chronicles of the Knight Riders (part 2)

The story so far:
A storm is brewing, familiar trails are rutted and new, some new unfamiliar trails were added to the mix. The knightriders started from the new centre, and are about to descend down Big Dipper.
The Mummy was bombing down the singletrack at almost the speed of green light. Suddenly the red taillight disappeared. Could the drop-off at the bottom be this close already? Could they really have gone that fast? No, it was just the first of many spectacular falls for the night.
Singletrack: 1. theMummy: 0.
The Mummy was found a good few metres from his bicycle. The red taillight and parts of the green handlebar-light were more difficult to spot, but after they collected all the missing bits, pieces and breath, they were off again.
The erosion and new ruts made the drop-off at the bottom of the hill considerably more technical than during winter.
Drop-off: 1. Oupa Gert: 0
Quick responses learnt on many nightrides prevented the Drop-off to claim a bigger toll.
So, forwards and onwards our Knoble Knightriders went. Forwards and onwards to the Dark Side.
Aaah, the Dark Side, where Alonzo thought he could ride over The Pipe. The Pipe, with its metre-high stakes on the left, and its 2-metre drop on the right. A less able ride would have fallen over to the left.
Pipe: 1. the Pied Piper: 0.

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Add Break
Tired of your straight backwheel? Need a new Pringle on your bicycle? Need an excuse to replace your back rim?
Come ride the PipeTrack with the PipeMan himself!
Every Thursday night from the new D&D centre. Bring your helmet, your buddies (for spectators and eye-witnesses), some plaster, and plenty of tools.
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On they went, to QT's drop-off, down the Long, Sexy Seductive singletrack. By now all the knightriders learnt a healthy respect for blood, mud & ruts. So they all walked down Kamakaze drop-off.
But wait! Stephan haven't had his customary fall for the night. Not to be outdone by any of the other entertainers, he waited for all the spectators to gather around before he bailed in a ditch. Man and Bicycle unite in one Cool Koeksister. Untangling them proved to be quite a challenge.
Ditch:1. Coolsister: 0.
There were a 30-second-sprint, and then, sadly, the shopping-mall came into sight, signalling the end of yet another beautiful night.
As quietly as they appeared out of nowhere, our knightriders disappeared again, back into nowwhere. Some went in for hot chocolate, others drove off into the starlit night, some others cycled home with the weather-goddess' displeasure still visible in the distance.
It would be a whole week before they could come out to play again, before they would feel this alive again.
The end.

******
Disclaimer:
Based on a true story. Names and places were not changed, but the summer-weeds growing all over the tracks might have taken its toll on the geographically-challenged scribe: Was it on this ride that they were joined by the D&D virgins who did VO2max hill with them, took pictures at the top, and then disappeared? Was it on this ride that the knightriders went through End of the World Singletrack?
The scribe accepts no responsibility for names of places, trails or downhills that are mentioned totally out of order, context or dimension.

There were a few other wannabe-falls. If you feel that your fall were spectacular enough to warrant a place in the annals of the ride, contact the scribe directly or on the mailing list. The scribe's decision is final and no correspondence will be entered into.

chronicles of the knightriders

It was early November. The erosion caused by the frequent summer-rains meant that familiar downhills were suddenly far more rutted than they were on the last few dusty winter-nights. Fresh new summer-weeds grew merrily all over the familiar trails, hiding the track in general, and the new potholes & ruts in particular, from the unsuspecting rider. The old familiar trails were new and exciting once more.
There were also the new single tracks, new challenges & new obstacles that came with moving to a new venue.
The scene was set for a few spectacular falls.
The knightriders were not disappointed. If there were an award for the most spectacular fall of the year, then the finalists would probably all come from the same ride.
***
Our story begins with a few intrepid cyclists, and then some more, greeting each other and chatting away as they were getting their bikes and lights ready for the weekly ritual that changes ordinary mountain bikers into exceptionally cool people. The weather-goddess put on a feeble attempt to scare our 20-odd Warriors of the Dirt with an electrical power display on the horizon. But by now they were used to her unpredictable whims, and like true Conquerors of the Dark, they all just ignored her. She sometimes does go away if you do that. And it was going to be an intro/xtro ride anyway, so if she does get grumpy later, the riders could just all opt out of the xtro-ride.
So, off they went. Hardy showed them an awesome playground with some short turns, drops, jumps, everything a dirty warrior could want :)
He allowed them to play a little, and then they were off to new challenges –
Up someone's single track, down someone else's route, up this way, down that way – and then suddenly something would look familiar again.
Big Dipper was coming up. The ideal spot for the Mummy to test his most recent acquirement: the custom-built green light that dims and brights with the speed of the bicycle. So down they went, a mad dash of single file-bikes, down to the bottom of the hill. Faster and faster. Will the light be bright enough to handle the Mummy's famous downhill-speed? Will the light be bright enough to reveal the ruts and rocks hidden under weeds, dust & starlight?
Stay tuned for another episode of the chronicles of the knightriders.

Flying is Fun

Samantha's got lots of 'other lives'. Shy sometimes cycle with me, i sometime paddle with her - we've done an adventure race or 2 together. One of her other lives and loves is flying - so one weekend she took me with. I did a tandem-flight with one of her friends. Lots of paragliders in the air; they physics similar to parachute but you'r in the air for a lot longer.

The most impressive part of the day was where Sam drove her 2x4 up a really technical 4x4 path - well done

a brilliant day out in the sun.

Midlands Mystery Mally

i like it when people say i'm scared of nothing - bu reality is that i'm scared of quite a lot of things ... like being lost in a forest in the dark all by myself, as i realised last weekend - i added another DNF to my repertoire this year, and this time, solely because i was scared. But thank you anyway, Eric :)

***

I do the D&D's partly because of the cool crowd of people that i get to ride with, but mostly because night riding is highly addictive ... up to a point where once a week isn't enough. So i googled every race calendar i could find for more night riding. Seems there's not a lot of night-riding going on in a year - you can take on a full adventure race in the hope that at least some cycling will be on single track at night, or there's the noon 2 moon and 24hours northern farms all on the same weekend, the sabie shenanigans, transbaviaans, and the midlands mystery mally (past weekend) - and that's about it :(

Oh yes, and then there's the non-stop-sani2c and the freedom-challenge if you've got a really bad case of addiction, or the telkom satellite night-MTB if you can justify the fuel & time to go there to cycle 10 kays.

The crater cruise sounded too much like a roadie-ride off road, so paul, jan, elja & i headed to midmar dam for a staged mountain bike race along the same lines as the sabie shenanigans: a rally-style race consisting of a 50 kay day stage followed by a night stage of 45 kays - if you don't get lost, that is :)

The day stage was over varied terrain, a few longish climbs, a hike & carry-your-bike section, a fast downhill through the forest, some rain-relief against the warm humid October-natal-air, some magnificent down hills that still make me smile thinking back, Jan & Paul catching up on us just as I discovered the broken derailleur & then realised that i lost my map - they picked the map up so i didn't have to go back up the awesome downhill, and then sommer fixed the broken derailleur while they were in the area ...

The transition was at a hotel somewhere between the forests & tracks & rivers & waterfalls; hot showers, hot chocolate, coffee, lasagna, even a comfortable coach for a quick snooze...

Anyway - before this becomes a race report - 'cos Frequent Flyer will do the proper write-up - let me come to the point of this email - the part where i opted for a DNF because i was too scared:

All but four teams withdrew from the night stage, and due to circumstances outside our control, the fireflies (elja & i) started the night-stage in the very last position. So now there were 3 (very strong) teams ahead of us somewhere out there, & we trailing behind.  Just outside the town, a drunken guy wanted a lift, and when we ignored the request, started running with us. We outcycled him, but could still hear him shouting abuse after us for what seemed like hours... it was about then that we hit a corrugated downhill ... which was when i realised that i never put the brakes back after the derailleur-fixing episode at the hotel. I managed to stop to put the brakes back, all the while knowing that the shouting running guy is catching up on us ... long story short, i felt very uncomfortable and when we missed a turn-off a few minutes later and lost about 50 minutes climbing the wrong mountain, we realised that the other teams were now about an hour ahead of us; and we'll be alone the rest of the night, and that even if the derailleur held, & there were no other mechanicals, we'll have to stop every now and again to look at the map ... and stopping wasn't safe...

So we quitted.

If more teams entered, we wouldn't have felt so utterly lost & alone in the forest - it helps to know there are other people in the area.

And here, finally after all the ramblings, is the point of this email:

Why were there so few teams?

maybe there's just too much going on in a year?

maybe it clashed with the crater cruise?

maybe it's too expensive for gauteng-teams to go down to midmar, but at R420 per team entry (2 or 3 people, which included a hot shower, supper, midnight soup, rolls & hot chocolate, & breakfast) it was excellent value for money for the midlanders?

maybe night-riding is too daunting?

maybe the total distance of just under 100 for the day is too daunting?

maybe ... any other suggestions? 

Transition-disability causes Baviaans favourites their podium-position

Transition-disability causes Baviaans favourites their podium-position
Dark & Dirty Dispatch
Baviaanskloof, 19 August

One of the favourite teams to win this year's Trans-Baviaans challenge, a gruelling mountain bike race over 230 km, transitioned a sure podium-position away last weekend when they spent too much time in transitions socialising, eating and sleeping. The team spent about the same amount of time at checkpoints, as other teams took to finish the whole race, reports our correspondent from the Eastern Cape.

Team Dark & Dirty, who entered their third team due to all kinds of excuses from the first and second teams, were the favourites to win the competition, mainly because of all the publicity that their small & loony group of writers, riders and photographers enjoyed over the last few months.

The transitionally challenged team started the race with a mad sprint over the flattish and sometimes even downhill-part of the route. Jan Dekker was seen spinning like a yo-yo at a cadence approaching 300 revs per minute to keep up with team captain Hans Wolfaardt's crazy pace. Team Dark & Dirty were among the first 50 teams to arrive at checkpoint 1. 'I went quite fast', was all that Dekker had to say as he tucked into the hotdogs and coffee provided at the checkpoint.

No team could overtake Team Dark & Dirty when they were on their bicycles, averaging about 19 km/h over the total distance. Speed and fame, unfortunately, were not enough to win them glory, the team found out in the early hours of Sunday morning.

The team's original goal was to finish in 20 hours, and ahead of team Bloukous and Team Brother-In-Law. The tailwind and dry weather made for perfect riding conditions, and it soon became clear that neither the 20 hours, nor any other team (with a teamname starting with B) posed any threat to the Dark goals of the Dirty team.

From the first checkpoint, the team were a clear favourite among the checkpoint-staff, opposition team support teams, and paramedics. A paramedic at checkpoint 4 ascribed the team's popularity to the fact that they stopped and socialised with everyone at every checkpoint, instead of just racing past like other teams of their calibre. Team Dark & Dirty stayed in the first transition for more hotdogs, more coffee, and then sat down watching teams come and go, lubing their bums, lubing their bicycles, and thinking up all kinds of other excuses to postpone leaving the checkpoint. When they finally did leave, it was a mad dash to catch up with teams that passed them while they were transitioning. By the second transition the pattern of 'cycle hard, transition hard' that the team would follow through-out the race, was already firmly established.

The hardtail-unfriendly surface, freeride-bike-unfriendly hills, long fun downhills, more long fun downhills, gruesome climbs and stealth-mode riding by starlight, all contributed to the sore bums that would haunt the team from the first checkpoint. Dekker almost caused a riot in the team when he suggested that the reason for sore bums might be too much chocolate brownies.

When the race-pace became too hot on one of the rare occasions that the team could be found actually ON their bicycles, Carine Reyneke tried to wear her team mates out by discovering a puncture right at the top of a downhill, causing the ever-energetic team mates who waited in vain at the bottom, to climb the hill again to come to her aid.
When that didn't seem to slow the team down, she tried an old trick by breaking her seat post. Dark & Dirty Dispatch Readers will remember that she tried that very same trick a few months ago during the Sabie Shenanigans, causing Dekker much pain and grief to try and fix it, while she was taking a much-needed rest. This time, however, Dekker was ready for the onslaught: no sooner had the team been made aware of the broken saddle, or he was found lying sleeping next to the road, with gloves tucked in on both sides of his helmet to shut out lights from passing cars and bicycles, leaving Wolfaardt to take care of the mechanical breakdown.

Official investigations are still underway, but a preliminary report reveals several possible reasons for the long transitions that costed the team their race.

The perfect weather could have played a role in the team's reluctance to get out of the watering holes. 'In foul weather, a team might want to get on their bicycles and get the race over with, but the sunshine & tailwind might have reminded the cyclists of lazy Sunday-afternoons on thick grass under big trees', a paramedic explained.
Wolfaardt blamed the transition-disability on the changed menus. Racers were promised boring potatoes, but were offered braaivleis, potato salad and sosaties instead. At another transition they were promised coffee, but got harassed with cream-and-syrup-spiked hot chocolate, chocolate muffins and garlic rolls. 'I mean, what was the organiser thinking - it was more like a spud-crawl than a cycle-race', Wolfaardt was heard muttering to his team mates. 'How did the race organisers expect us to cycle after that? Being all sleepy like after a Sunday lunch & everything?' Official complaints will be lodged with the race organiser.

'We tried not to transition longer than we took to cycle the previous leg, but that was not always possible', Dekker was heard saying after a two-hour-long transition at checkpoint 5. (The cycle-leg prior to that checkpoint took them a mere 90 minutes.)
At checkpoint 6, the team finally found a way to keep Dekker from falling asleep at transitions when Wolfaardt devised a cunning plan that involved getting an innocent bystander to admire Dekker's bicycle and start discussing freeriding. This plan, however, also had its challenges, because neither Dekker nor the innocent bystander was prepared to leave the checkpoint before the necessary exchange of contact details.

Wolfaardt calculated that the team could change the 24-hour-event into a staged race by combining the time spent at each transition, and rather make a proper transition-area out of one of the transitions. 'We could pitch tents and sleep in proper sleeping bags', Wolfaardt proposed excitedly. Fears now exist that other teams will catch on with this trend, changing the Trans Baviaans into a multi-staged event and thereby robbing if of its status as the world's longest single-stage race.

One possible reason for Dekker's reluctance to wake up and get onto his bicycle after checkpoints was discovered after the race when Reyneke tried to move Dekker's backpack. It weighed about 70 kg's and help had to be called in to move the pack 2 metres to make space to sit.

Dekker was not available for comment.

Singletrackminded

Having never seen a "North shore-bridge", I had no idea what the organiser (and everyone else) was on about at the Sudwala pre-ride briefing. The sparkle and excitement in my freerider-buddies' eyes hinted that it might be technical stuff far above my or my bike's ability. The promised "chicken-runs" didn't put me at ease in the slightest - I remembered only too well that the so-called "chicken runs" at the downhill-competition the day after the Induna were still very much higher-grade.
The organiser spoke about single track and drop-offs, downhills & obstacles & bridges, North shore-style.

Yeah right. We started on dirt-road, did a quick loop through a tunnel, and then onto a never-ending climb - on tar. At the top of the tar-hill, we at last left the tar and continued the climb up a rutted jeep-track. Finally there was a water point, an Argustour-vibe and a downhill. The downhill didn't last long, though. But the next hill was short, and finally we were in a forest. The single track twisted and turned and I missed it a few times DeeKay-style. Then there was a piece of single track that looked like it was made a few days before - which is likely, due to last minute route-changes because of the fires that raged the area. The path was against a steep slope and you had to tackle it fast so that, by the time the earth disappears beneath your back wheel, you'll be over that patch already. Unfortunately there was a bottleneck - like sometimes happen on these juicy bits. People haven't heard of the 'speed can cure almost any obstacle'-theory yet. Finally the newly created track sloped downwards, and then joined with something out of this world - we were inside a mini-canyon with a play park of bridges, twists, turns, and more bridges. Once or twice I accidentally took the chicken-run (I'm still learning to look further ahead) and had to turn back so that I could attempt the real thing. Once or twice I was in the real thing before realising it, and it was too late to stop so I just had to continue - wow!

The rest of the route followed the same pattern: climbing on (sometimes very steep) rutted jeep-tracks and bombing down deep kloofs with twists & turns & rocks & bridges & broken bridges (deliberately, I suspect, because the wood seemed quite new) and very narrow bridges and very long bridges and bridges that turned in mid-air and bridges built at strange angles and steep turns that would throw your bicycle up against the track-wall, and drop-offs with low tree-branches that would grab your camel-back just as you cleared the drop-off or the obstacle. There were a few hair raising moments when I overestimated the angle of a bridge over a fence, and caught some air right at the top of the upside-down V-bridge...I would have been out of the race if the mountain bike-goddess didn't show some mercy & guided my wheels to a soft landing straight back on the bridge. There was some more climbing, and more bombing down into some or other technical heaven, then some waiting for a chance to pass who-ever's in front of you, and then another climb, where the slow-single-track-people would outclimb you again, another downhill and sometimes another bottleneck.

Every few kilometers you would hear a big noise, and a few 100 meters later the water point would come into sight - with loudspeakers & pom-pom girls cheering you on - the vibe was great & I felt like a champion as they cheered me into & out of each water point.



It's almost a week after the race and I still walking around with this stupid grin.

There's just one thing that this race doesn't have: ski lifts to the top of the many climbs. I guess I'll just have to learn to climb, so that I can avoid the bottlenecks by reaching the single track first.

Note to free riders, duallie-riders, Dark & Dirty-riders and other Mountain Bikers:
A girl on a hard tail wrote this report, and 'technical' for her is nothing special for anyone else. Not worth going to Nelspruit for this ride.
Note to roadie riders:
This ride is far too technical and you won't like it one bit. Don't take your MTB there for it's annual getaway. You might fall and bruise yourself - and we don't want you to walk around with a grin for a week after the ride and then convert to MTB.