Random thoughts about nightriding
Sometime during the course of the year it became the task of the first person to fall, write the ride report - It must have been after Krummel stopped riding, 'cos it would have been monotonous to have him write the report week after week :-)
It was easy enough to avoid being selected as the designated ride-report-writer: just keep the falls inconspicuous and witnessless.
But the dust, the Russian explaining his long absence, the slow speed down the foreign new sweet track, the invisible rock, the inattention to where you're riding (listening and chatting away, instead) all conspired to what the Russian called one of the more spectacular endo's he'd seen - although not by far anything like his legendary sabie-classic-endo (he took an hour to recover the bicycle) - but that's a story for another day, and for someone else to tell.
So I won the right to write the ride report - together with a lot of bruises, minor human-stan's loss and a few more scratches on the well-abused bicycle.
---------------------
It was a warm summer's night. There was no rain yet to turn the dust into mud.
Some people were recovering from the bull; others were at the banf-movies, some were in Turkey, and yet others' bicycles were in for a service – so it happened that there were only 9 intrepid riders for the Thursday-night-ritual.
Hardy greeted someone whom he saw on tv the previous week – the same someone was later seen wheely-ing up one of the hill challenges. It later emerged he's some or other duathlon-champ.
There was some new track (Can we do it again? Can we do it again?), some old familiar tracks; some ups, lots of downs, always around the searchlight that emanated from the Moo Mall (for Powergirl, to orientate her). There were pleas to go do last week's downhill-course again, but Hardy was firm: only when Eric is back from Turkey.
Cornwall downhill was very dusty, lots of loose sand, very low visibility and not nearly as much fun as it used to be :-(
The tunnel after it made up for the lack of cornwall-thrill, though.
Some more ups and downs - the ever-enjoyable sweet singletrak-downhill , the always-thrilling-always-fast ghostride track (with lights to light up the dust, as the moon was only a sliver).
We stopped at one of the favourite birthday-spots for oupa Gerrit's birthday party. Deekay's chocolate cake was remarkably intact, considering the abuse that it took in his backpack (including surviving a tiny little fall?). Blowing out of the candles, champagne, cupcakes, cappuccino-muffins - it was probably the first time that there was leftover cake after a D&D party!
Then some more ups and downs – the python, a tour de tar, some Vetseun, some Big Dipper, hot chocolate afterwards. As always, an honour to share the dirt with you.
-------------------------
Thank you DK, for looking after me and checking if everything was ok after the minor endo :)
Note to self: next time you plan to go do the afriman duathlon, don't fall off your bicycle the Thursday night before. If you absolutely *have* to endo, then don't hurt you knee so that you can barely walk the next day. And if you can barely walk the next day, and it's about a week before G4, then listen to your buddies telling you *not* to go hurt your knee further by attempting to run 21 kay or similar. Not a good idea. For future reference.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
Sani2C - my take on things
Sani2C adventure 2008
"There is a lovely path that runs from Underberg into the hills. These hills are grass-covered and rolling, and the singletracks taking you to the sea are thrilling beyond any singing of it. The track sometimes climbs 7, sometimes 8 miles into the hills, and from there, if there is no mist, you look down on the fairest valleys of Africa. Below you Nick's pass go down and down on its way to the sea; and beyond and behind Nick's pass, great hill after hill; and beyond and behind them, sugar plantations, mountains, climbs and downhills.
"The singletrack is windy and twisty and flowing, and you cannot see the end of it. There are bridges and steep turns and roots. Stand unshod upon it, for the track is holy …"
- Cry, the beloved country, Alan Paton
Sometimes an experience is so overwhelming that it's almost sacrilege to talk about it – maybe if you keep it all to yourself, the memories will beam you back to that magical summers day on a mattress in the shade of a huge tree – but then you open your eyes and you are not surrounded by a great bunch of people, and there's no more downhills and no more singletrack waiting for you the next day - you'll have to wait till next year to ride those tracks again, and see those valleys again, and feel so alive again. Next year, when you'll train a little harder so that you'll reach the singletrack a little earlier, before the madding crowds get there …
Sometimes an experience has so many highlights that it's impossible to pick a favourite impression.
And sometimes you just don't want to share an experience – you don't want other people to discover the almost-holy tracks & trails – jealous on what you've experienced, you want to keep it all for yourself, so that it can stay yours, to enjoy again and again, if only in your mind.
*******
All of the above made it very hard to write a report about the Subaru Sani2C adventure. You could describe the steep hot never-ending technical climbs, matched by even steeper even longer biggest-grin-ever-downhills, and the doughnuts and the mcCain hot chips and the ice-cold water and the watermelon and the vibe at the water points, and the beautiful snaking big-grin-singletracks, and the children cheering & waving flags, making you feel like you're taking part in the Tour de France; you could describe the incredible vibe at the end of each day, the bike wash, the steamy-hot showers with huge pink bouquets and matching pink towels, hand cream and soap in the girls' bathrooms, You could describe reliving the day's climbs, the telling and retelling stories of your favourite singletrack of the day over donuts on a mattress in the shade, – you could explain all that, but you won't be able to describe the thrills and joys of flying down the handcrafted singletrack downhills – oh, those singletrack downhills!
You won't be able to describe the heightened senses, the endorphin overdose, the fully aliveness, the.complete satisfaction with life in general,
For anyone to understand all of this, you'll just have to go experience the Subaru Sani2C adventure for yourself.
So - here's how to do it yourself:
- Don't work for a company that doesn't allow its employees to take leave over tax year-end. Change jobs if you have to.
- If you change jobs, make sure that the boss-to-be understands how important it is that you get leave in February.
- Entry fees are expensive. It's worth it, so start saving now. Don't buy that new dual suspension if it would mean that you won't be able to afford Sani2C. You can do Sani2C on a hard tail (and you'll have more bragging rights doing so).
- Get a team mate. One who climbs your speed (or preferably slightly slower than you, if possible.) You don't want to kill yourself on the uphills. No matter what the official website says about life not being all downhill – this ride is not about the total ascend of over 4500 metres. It's about the 6500 metres or so of awesome thrilling breathtaking descent. So get a team mate who can descend – preferably faster than what you can, but only just, so that you can let her go in front of you and you can just hold onto the rollercoaster that your bicycle becomes when it follows her line.
- Secure an entry. 2008's entries were sold out within 3 hours. Learn to speed-type and arrange access to the fastest internet-connection you can find on the day that entries open. Log onto the website a few minutes before entries open and keep refreshing the pages until you've secured your entry.
- Train. Climb as many hills as you can find. You want to be strong enough to enjoy the ride. The ride is about the downhills, but you want to enjoy them, so climb every hill that you can find.
- Train some more.
- Don't break anything on your bicycle at the Sabie Classic the weekend before the Sani2C – all bicycle shops are fully booked the week before Sani2C / Cape Argus, and you might have to replace the front derailleur yourself.
- Do not arrange a very important un-movable meeting at 16:00 on the day before the start of the Subaru Sani2C Adventure. Do not leave Jo'burg at 19:00 on the eve of the event, even if your team mate does offer to register for you.
- If you can't leave Jo'burg before 19:00 on the eve of the event, then fit the broken derailleur the day before you leave – there won't be time to do it before the ride. Also sort your toothbrush and other essentials out before you go; otherwise you might not see if again until you arrive in Scottsburgh. Have your tent mate do the same.
- If you arrived in Underberg at about 3 on the morning of the event, and you still have some sorting-out, packing and bicycle maintenance to do, don't oversleep. Your friends (who registered for you and were in bed at 9) will think they're doing you a favour by not waking you up. Set 4 alarms if you have to.
- Drop your freshly-packed race-box, fill your bladder, and arrive at the start line just as the race starts. There will be enough time to put sunscreen on and find your gloves before the people around you start moving.
- You've made it – you're on the ride. Let the games begin!
- The ride starts with 20 or so kays of dirt road, climbing all the way to the first singletrack. Stay out of the bunch. In front, if you can, or (far easier) stay right at the back. Only pretend to cycle hard if there's a camera crew right next to you.
- Enjoy the unexpected bridges and steep turns that soon will become a trademark of this ride.
- One way to get out of the crowds and create some space on the singletrack for yourself, is to take a tumble on one of the rare straight pieces of boring gravel road, where the medics can reach you in their vehicles. It helps if there are people around to help you getting your bicycle out of the ditch.
- When you get to the wooden bridge crossing the river, see how close you can get to the bicycle in front of you and watch the strange effect that this has on the water, the bridge and the rider ahead.
- Appreciate the singletrack, the climbs, the screaming downhills, the ice-cold water and doughnuts and hot chips at the water points, the perfect weather, the people around you – other people are stuck in Joburg's load-shedded traffic.
- The first day ends with a huge climb. Save some energy for it and forgive the organisers for this– they DID get everything else right.
- Wash your bike and then park it on the tennis court. Ignore the warning sign that says that bicycles are not allowed. It is not necessary to make a mental note of where you parked your bicycle – by the time you get there the next day, your bike will be the only one on the tennis court and easy to find.
- If you want the bicycle shop to fit that broken derailleur that no Joburg bicycle shop could fit before the ride, then don't go shower and spend hours chatting with old converted roadie-buddies that you haven't seen in years - the bike shop might be fully booked by the time you arrive there, and you would have to fit that front derailleur yourself.
- It helps to have a friend who knows about bicycles, to supervise the fitting of the derrailleur. Ignore the audience.
- Take an afternoon-nap on a mattress under a tree, then go watch footage of the day's events on the ceiling of the tent while lying flat on your back. Listen to what the next day has in store, brush your teeth before your tent mate borrows your toothbrush, and lie in your tent listening as 1000 cell phones receives 1000 sms's with seeding batches for the next day.
- Don't be tempted to eat crumpets with butter, cheese and jam in stead of oats for breakfast the next morning– crumpets don't last; you will get hungry early in the ride.
- Don't worry about the gears not shifting properly after the derrailleur-fitting-episode - at the first bottleneck there will be enough time to sort that out.
- Then climb up, up and up to the top of the world and a goosebumpy view of the misty world far below.
- Negotiate some singletrack and then draw a sharp breath as you see Nick's pass below you. Observe a moment of silence for a master track builder. And then release the breaks and set the deamon inside you free.
- Feel like a champion as you smile and wave at the cheering kids.
- Enjoy the ride – wow, what a ride! Steep turns, down, ever downer and faster and crasier … scream with pleasure as you negotiate the unexpected bumps and steep twists.
- Careful of the slippery bridges at the bottom – watch several other people fall off them before you get there, and then clip out before attempting to ride them yourself.
- Climb the long climb that follows, stuff yourself with donuts (the crumpet-breakfast long forgotten) and fill your bladder with ice-cold water at the water point. Then attack the downhill again. Try to keep your wheels on the ground. Experience being fully alive. Scream with pleasure and ecstasy as you exit the downhill. Wow, what a life, what a ride.
- Climb.
- Climb some more.
- Note at the Nando's teasers along the way, smile at the photographers if you have some energy left, and finally reach the compulsory stop.
- Lube the bike, eat the compulsory Nandos burger, drink the compulsory ice-cold water, stay much longer than the compulsory 10 minutes.
- Climb, and then negotiate a rare boring piece of district road – it will make you wonder why roadies road, and it will give you a new appreciation for the singletrack and downhills ahead.
- Ride 5 times through the water tunnel at the last water point, stuff yourself with watermelon, and then ride the last few kilometres of singletrack, climbs, downhills and finally tar of what easily was one of the best days of mountain biking that you've ever experienced.
- Repeat the pattern of the previous night: wash the bike, shower, eat…
- It is best at this stage to not discover that you are the third girl team on the adventure event. If you do discover this, then it is best to remind your team mate that this is not a race. If faking an injury also doesn't work, and a broken middle-blade doesn't convince her, then carbo-load during supper, go to bed early and hope that the racing snake inside the team mate will die somewhere during the night.
- The last day starts with climbs through sugar plantations – climbs, downhills, camera crew interviewing you on the steepest climb of the day, singletrack, climbs, downhills, water point. Then a quick dive when you lose the track around a corner, a beautiful cycle through a reserve, a nice piece of technical climb, more ups and downs, a cement track, some sand, a beach, an uphill uphill uphill climb to the school. You may be tired, but you're not remotely funned out. Too soon everything is over – grab a doughnut, go get your bike washed, go collect your race box and finisher's shirt and stand around totally stunned by what you've just experienced, and totally satisfied with life.
***********
Epilogue
- Go pitch a tent at the caravan park.
- Go down to the Wimpy for breakfast early on Saturday morning, and then down to the beach to cheer the racing snakes in.
- Then go up to the school, cheering the riders on as you walk, and welcoming them at the school when you arrive there.
- Go swim, and cheer more riders in as they cycle over the beach.
- Go to the after-party where you probably will not win the Subaru because you've used up all your luck staying on your bike on the singletrack the previous few days.
- Start planning for the next year's ride.
"There is a lovely path that runs from Underberg into the hills. These hills are grass-covered and rolling, and the singletracks taking you to the sea are thrilling beyond any singing of it. The track sometimes climbs 7, sometimes 8 miles into the hills, and from there, if there is no mist, you look down on the fairest valleys of Africa. Below you Nick's pass go down and down on its way to the sea; and beyond and behind Nick's pass, great hill after hill; and beyond and behind them, sugar plantations, mountains, climbs and downhills.
"The singletrack is windy and twisty and flowing, and you cannot see the end of it. There are bridges and steep turns and roots. Stand unshod upon it, for the track is holy …"
- Cry, the beloved country, Alan Paton
Sometimes an experience is so overwhelming that it's almost sacrilege to talk about it – maybe if you keep it all to yourself, the memories will beam you back to that magical summers day on a mattress in the shade of a huge tree – but then you open your eyes and you are not surrounded by a great bunch of people, and there's no more downhills and no more singletrack waiting for you the next day - you'll have to wait till next year to ride those tracks again, and see those valleys again, and feel so alive again. Next year, when you'll train a little harder so that you'll reach the singletrack a little earlier, before the madding crowds get there …
Sometimes an experience has so many highlights that it's impossible to pick a favourite impression.
And sometimes you just don't want to share an experience – you don't want other people to discover the almost-holy tracks & trails – jealous on what you've experienced, you want to keep it all for yourself, so that it can stay yours, to enjoy again and again, if only in your mind.
*******
All of the above made it very hard to write a report about the Subaru Sani2C adventure. You could describe the steep hot never-ending technical climbs, matched by even steeper even longer biggest-grin-ever-downhills, and the doughnuts and the mcCain hot chips and the ice-cold water and the watermelon and the vibe at the water points, and the beautiful snaking big-grin-singletracks, and the children cheering & waving flags, making you feel like you're taking part in the Tour de France; you could describe the incredible vibe at the end of each day, the bike wash, the steamy-hot showers with huge pink bouquets and matching pink towels, hand cream and soap in the girls' bathrooms, You could describe reliving the day's climbs, the telling and retelling stories of your favourite singletrack of the day over donuts on a mattress in the shade, – you could explain all that, but you won't be able to describe the thrills and joys of flying down the handcrafted singletrack downhills – oh, those singletrack downhills!
You won't be able to describe the heightened senses, the endorphin overdose, the fully aliveness, the.complete satisfaction with life in general,
For anyone to understand all of this, you'll just have to go experience the Subaru Sani2C adventure for yourself.
So - here's how to do it yourself:
- Don't work for a company that doesn't allow its employees to take leave over tax year-end. Change jobs if you have to.
- If you change jobs, make sure that the boss-to-be understands how important it is that you get leave in February.
- Entry fees are expensive. It's worth it, so start saving now. Don't buy that new dual suspension if it would mean that you won't be able to afford Sani2C. You can do Sani2C on a hard tail (and you'll have more bragging rights doing so).
- Get a team mate. One who climbs your speed (or preferably slightly slower than you, if possible.) You don't want to kill yourself on the uphills. No matter what the official website says about life not being all downhill – this ride is not about the total ascend of over 4500 metres. It's about the 6500 metres or so of awesome thrilling breathtaking descent. So get a team mate who can descend – preferably faster than what you can, but only just, so that you can let her go in front of you and you can just hold onto the rollercoaster that your bicycle becomes when it follows her line.
- Secure an entry. 2008's entries were sold out within 3 hours. Learn to speed-type and arrange access to the fastest internet-connection you can find on the day that entries open. Log onto the website a few minutes before entries open and keep refreshing the pages until you've secured your entry.
- Train. Climb as many hills as you can find. You want to be strong enough to enjoy the ride. The ride is about the downhills, but you want to enjoy them, so climb every hill that you can find.
- Train some more.
- Don't break anything on your bicycle at the Sabie Classic the weekend before the Sani2C – all bicycle shops are fully booked the week before Sani2C / Cape Argus, and you might have to replace the front derailleur yourself.
- Do not arrange a very important un-movable meeting at 16:00 on the day before the start of the Subaru Sani2C Adventure. Do not leave Jo'burg at 19:00 on the eve of the event, even if your team mate does offer to register for you.
- If you can't leave Jo'burg before 19:00 on the eve of the event, then fit the broken derailleur the day before you leave – there won't be time to do it before the ride. Also sort your toothbrush and other essentials out before you go; otherwise you might not see if again until you arrive in Scottsburgh. Have your tent mate do the same.
- If you arrived in Underberg at about 3 on the morning of the event, and you still have some sorting-out, packing and bicycle maintenance to do, don't oversleep. Your friends (who registered for you and were in bed at 9) will think they're doing you a favour by not waking you up. Set 4 alarms if you have to.
- Drop your freshly-packed race-box, fill your bladder, and arrive at the start line just as the race starts. There will be enough time to put sunscreen on and find your gloves before the people around you start moving.
- You've made it – you're on the ride. Let the games begin!
- The ride starts with 20 or so kays of dirt road, climbing all the way to the first singletrack. Stay out of the bunch. In front, if you can, or (far easier) stay right at the back. Only pretend to cycle hard if there's a camera crew right next to you.
- Enjoy the unexpected bridges and steep turns that soon will become a trademark of this ride.
- One way to get out of the crowds and create some space on the singletrack for yourself, is to take a tumble on one of the rare straight pieces of boring gravel road, where the medics can reach you in their vehicles. It helps if there are people around to help you getting your bicycle out of the ditch.
- When you get to the wooden bridge crossing the river, see how close you can get to the bicycle in front of you and watch the strange effect that this has on the water, the bridge and the rider ahead.
- Appreciate the singletrack, the climbs, the screaming downhills, the ice-cold water and doughnuts and hot chips at the water points, the perfect weather, the people around you – other people are stuck in Joburg's load-shedded traffic.
- The first day ends with a huge climb. Save some energy for it and forgive the organisers for this– they DID get everything else right.
- Wash your bike and then park it on the tennis court. Ignore the warning sign that says that bicycles are not allowed. It is not necessary to make a mental note of where you parked your bicycle – by the time you get there the next day, your bike will be the only one on the tennis court and easy to find.
- If you want the bicycle shop to fit that broken derailleur that no Joburg bicycle shop could fit before the ride, then don't go shower and spend hours chatting with old converted roadie-buddies that you haven't seen in years - the bike shop might be fully booked by the time you arrive there, and you would have to fit that front derailleur yourself.
- It helps to have a friend who knows about bicycles, to supervise the fitting of the derrailleur. Ignore the audience.
- Take an afternoon-nap on a mattress under a tree, then go watch footage of the day's events on the ceiling of the tent while lying flat on your back. Listen to what the next day has in store, brush your teeth before your tent mate borrows your toothbrush, and lie in your tent listening as 1000 cell phones receives 1000 sms's with seeding batches for the next day.
- Don't be tempted to eat crumpets with butter, cheese and jam in stead of oats for breakfast the next morning– crumpets don't last; you will get hungry early in the ride.
- Don't worry about the gears not shifting properly after the derrailleur-fitting-episode - at the first bottleneck there will be enough time to sort that out.
- Then climb up, up and up to the top of the world and a goosebumpy view of the misty world far below.
- Negotiate some singletrack and then draw a sharp breath as you see Nick's pass below you. Observe a moment of silence for a master track builder. And then release the breaks and set the deamon inside you free.
- Feel like a champion as you smile and wave at the cheering kids.
- Enjoy the ride – wow, what a ride! Steep turns, down, ever downer and faster and crasier … scream with pleasure as you negotiate the unexpected bumps and steep twists.
- Careful of the slippery bridges at the bottom – watch several other people fall off them before you get there, and then clip out before attempting to ride them yourself.
- Climb the long climb that follows, stuff yourself with donuts (the crumpet-breakfast long forgotten) and fill your bladder with ice-cold water at the water point. Then attack the downhill again. Try to keep your wheels on the ground. Experience being fully alive. Scream with pleasure and ecstasy as you exit the downhill. Wow, what a life, what a ride.
- Climb.
- Climb some more.
- Note at the Nando's teasers along the way, smile at the photographers if you have some energy left, and finally reach the compulsory stop.
- Lube the bike, eat the compulsory Nandos burger, drink the compulsory ice-cold water, stay much longer than the compulsory 10 minutes.
- Climb, and then negotiate a rare boring piece of district road – it will make you wonder why roadies road, and it will give you a new appreciation for the singletrack and downhills ahead.
- Ride 5 times through the water tunnel at the last water point, stuff yourself with watermelon, and then ride the last few kilometres of singletrack, climbs, downhills and finally tar of what easily was one of the best days of mountain biking that you've ever experienced.
- Repeat the pattern of the previous night: wash the bike, shower, eat…
- It is best at this stage to not discover that you are the third girl team on the adventure event. If you do discover this, then it is best to remind your team mate that this is not a race. If faking an injury also doesn't work, and a broken middle-blade doesn't convince her, then carbo-load during supper, go to bed early and hope that the racing snake inside the team mate will die somewhere during the night.
- The last day starts with climbs through sugar plantations – climbs, downhills, camera crew interviewing you on the steepest climb of the day, singletrack, climbs, downhills, water point. Then a quick dive when you lose the track around a corner, a beautiful cycle through a reserve, a nice piece of technical climb, more ups and downs, a cement track, some sand, a beach, an uphill uphill uphill climb to the school. You may be tired, but you're not remotely funned out. Too soon everything is over – grab a doughnut, go get your bike washed, go collect your race box and finisher's shirt and stand around totally stunned by what you've just experienced, and totally satisfied with life.
***********
Epilogue
- Go pitch a tent at the caravan park.
- Go down to the Wimpy for breakfast early on Saturday morning, and then down to the beach to cheer the racing snakes in.
- Then go up to the school, cheering the riders on as you walk, and welcoming them at the school when you arrive there.
- Go swim, and cheer more riders in as they cycle over the beach.
- Go to the after-party where you probably will not win the Subaru because you've used up all your luck staying on your bike on the singletrack the previous few days.
- Start planning for the next year's ride.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
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 :)
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 :)
Friday, November 23, 2007
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.
----------
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.
-----------
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.
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.
----------
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.
-----------
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.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, November 5, 2007
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.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
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?
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