Cycling with FreedomChallengers

So.
I signed up for Ride 2 Rhodes.

The kindergarten-version of the Freedom Challenge, complete with a guardian to look after us :)

Gotta do a bit of training. Even though this is the novice-version, there would still be hills to climb. But when Dave suggested on Saturday that we go for a ride with Fiona and the Freedom Challengers, I was a bit wary ... these people are going all the way to Cape Town, and they probably trained accordingly - if their blogs were to be believed. Intimidating!

But I allowed myself to be talked into riding with them ... they would be cycling with full kit and apparently were tapering, and who could resist a ride in the Magaliesberg area anyway?

An early start on a coldish morning.
Dave lead us down a tar-hill to test the buff's ability to keep the ears warm, and to find out where toe-freezing-point is. Then up again, through the gate, and heaven. This is why i cycle. For dirt and pretty views and rocky climbs with gnarly downhills. On towards the dam, then down, another little singletrackie through grass, and coffee.

Then a portage - 'cos the Queen Bee said so, and even though i was gonna do the kindergarten-ride, i, too, will have to go over Lehanna. That's what they said, so I went with them.

'they' also confirmed a few other things for me:

• the ride 2 rhodes is 6 days, not 7 - so i have enough cycling kit (the luxury of not having to carry everything, therefore being able to take clean kit for every day)
  
• the 20 litre bag will be big enough, even with travel-size makeup and other unmentionables in the bag
  
• thank you Fiona for all the tips on navigating! i'll see how much i can remember
  
• apparenlty my pet cat looks more like a dog, but in the end they admitted that maybe it could pass for a lion-cub, which is feline, which makes it a cat.
• my lift back from rhodes was in fact riding with us in the group (i only had email contact up till then)
• blue is a very good colour for a camera - now it must just arrive in time, otherwise i'll have to take the SLR
  

There was a race at van Gaalens, so we couldn't ride my alltime favourite singletrack :(

The Freedom Challengers quickly replanned the route, and we went up the vegetable farm, a short climb, a nice downhill (the bike loved it!) then up some gravelroad, and then up a stunning little rocky climb. heart rate monitor's battery is flat, but i'm sure with the last remnants of last week's cold it would have been a ne max heartrate. All of them with backpacks approaching 40 kg's, way up ahead on the climb, and me trailing a km or 2 behind them with my 2 litres of water in my bag. (That's why I do the novice ride.)

Did I ever feel left out of all their talk about ice-cream boxes that had to be packed and sent down to capetown, or about their final preparations, or about parts of the route that i wouldn't do? Not at all. Just very thankful for a few things:

• i didn't have to climb that rocky bit with a backpack almost as heavy as fiona herself.
• i know people who know how to connect all the juicy bits in the mountain in the best possible way, creating a stunning ride :)
  
• happy to be on my bicycle -the bike absolutely loved the ride

And mostly a little bit sad that the preparations are nearing it's end, and that their may not be repeats of a ride like this one :(

thank you, Gadget, for the entertainment provided :)

Good luck, all ye Freedom Challengers! Two weeks to go!

Sani2C nonstop

We left Joburg early, to do the REAL sani2c - No riding up there, we had the bakkie with us.

Was cold at the top, the hot chocolate went down well with the views.



There was some good tracks up there. Dodgy at times, to try miss the 4x4s, hikers, donkeys and other traffic. Contrary to popular belief, it's not all the way downhill from Sanitop to Underberg. We arrived just in time for race briefing ... then off to bed in a tent just outside the hostel - getting up at 11, cos the race started at 12. What an uncivilised time to start a race - pablo and gerard had their hands full to keep me awake. A coffee-stop and some red bull at the Mackenzie-club did the trick.



No singletrack at night - partly to make the ride more doable. So no Nic's pass, we took the district road all the way to the bottom of the umkomaas valley - and out on the other side.



We defrostd a little when the sun came up. And slightly overheated when Gerard put Pablo on a tow, had to work hard to keep up with them!



Each team has it's own backup driver. Hein cooked up a wonderful breakfast - he even put out chairs for all of us, lubed the bikes, and he makes excellent coffee.

Waterval Boven

Glenn has been busy in Boven. The Forest Track, Rim Trail and Contour Path will stay favourites - but he added a playstation and fourcrosstrack, extended the Contour Path, added a few bridges to the Forest Track, and extended the Rimtrail till right in town - it's rough in sections, and big fun!

Here's Paul on the playstation:


more playstation-madness. there is a chicken-run for the less adventurous.


Swampdog Grant on the fourcross-track:



the masterbuilder and some swampdogs on the top part of the Rimtrail.


a bridge at the bottom of the RimTrail



The fun part of the Contour Path (everything of this path is the fun part, actually)


A rivercrossing just before the exit of the Contour Path



A bridge over a fence as you exit the Forest Trail (wheely strictly optional)

Extreme Dinner - new years 2009

We were 3000 metres above sea level. It was cold and wet and misty and miserable and none of us were in the mood for celebrating anything, let alone getting into formal gowns and partying the night away. It was four hours after we left the car park on what was supposed to be a 2-hour hike. It was pitch dark long before we reached the chain ladders, and even though we knew we were only 300 metres from the hut, we couldn’t find it due to low visibility.

We pitched the tents and Gerard started making butternut soup. We were hungry and cold and wet. The walk up here was slippery and dangerous at places, the packs heavy with all kinds of nonnecessities. We huddled around a tuna-salad and washed it down with big gulps of Roberto’s sherry. The soup took forever, but finally it was kind of ready – we declared it 2009 and went to bed. It was cold and wet and miserable, but at least we weren’t that hungry any more. We would have the dinner in the morning.

1 January 2009 broke clear and crispy with the majesty of a drakensberg morning. We were 3000 metres above sea level and right next to the mighty tugela, a few metres from where it tumbles 900 metres to the valley far below. One by one people crawled out of their tents … and then 2009’s cork popped exuberantly and joyfully like a drakensburg-morning:

Jacques ironed his shirt.

The girls got dressed

Then we took some pictures

Had a bite to eat – a few bites, actually – the menu included, but was not limited to, a fish-dish, salad, lasagna, grilled chicken, couscous with balsamic vinegar and grilled veggies, tiramisu, cheese & biscuits, and chocolates and coffee … washed down with liberal amounts of sherry, bubbly and red wine.

And finally the dancing bagan (it's the speakers here in the foreground, living next door to alice)

The vitalstatistix for the midweek-weekend:

Carrying non-necessities up the mountain: 5000 kiloCalories

Shivering from cold and wet while pitching tents: 2000 Calories

Ironing shirt for early-morning dinner-party: 1000 Calories

5-course dinner for breakfast: -7000 gigaCalories

Extra portion of Tiramisu: -1000 gigaCalories

Memories: calorie-less :)

The right to write the ride report

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.

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.

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 :)