Epic 2009 - Stage 4 ~ Velo Tales

Date: 25 March 2009
Start/Finish: Greyton
Distance: 114km
Climbing: 2202m
Cut-off time: 17:00

Yet again, we would be going on a big loop, starting and ending in the same place. And unlike the previous days, this route didn't sound particularly exciting. Wide roads and jeep track was about all that we had to look forward to.

Our good effort the previous day had boosted our starting position, and we were now in B. This meant that we should get off to a nice fast start, and be able to ride in a bunch of similar ability. Or so we thought. The mapless motorcyclist of Greyton had other ideas. We were expecting a quick exit of the town, out onto the country roads, and on with the stage. Unfortunately, the lead motorcyclist got completely lost in the 5 streets that make up Greyton, and after heading up and down each one a couple times, he proceeded to lead us into a ditch. Now I am not sure if one of the pro teams (or for that matter a back marker) had paid him off, but in the utter chaos that ensued, the natural order of the race was thrown on its head.

The supporter's accomodation

More white horses - I can't wait to have the hiccoughs

Backmarkers suddenly found themselves mixing it with the pros, as several had climbed over fences, pushed through hedges, hiked through gardens, and suddenly found themselves at the front of the Cape Epic. Craig and I opted for the more gentlemanly approach of waiting our turn, and it was this gentlymanlyness that would ruin the rest of our day.

Hanging on, the faffers behind just behind us

Finally - some uphill

As we emerged from the ditch, we found ourselves surrounded by D and E group riders, and suddenly Craig switched into overdrive mode, and looked to make amends. I had no problem lurking with the back markers, but when your partner puts his head down and dissappears up the road, you have little choice but to suck it up and follow.

Me in my usual position - on the back and gasping!

My only reassurance was that I was not alone - Etienne was doing the same thing to Cillier. As we jumped from bunch to bunch, Craig and Etienne egging each other on, with Cillier and myself gasping for air, desparately trying to hang on for dear life as our legs had yet to get going. In between scoffing down my morning banana, and gulping down a Gu, a very strange thing happened. Cillier and I formed a union - and I don't mean something like a gay marriage. More like a Suffering Epic Partner union. And we did it without saying a word (mostly because we couldn't say a word!). It just took a look, and a nod of understanding - our partners really were hurting us, and we were taking strain. But if we stuck together, they couldn't exactly leave us - could they?

A pleasant surprise was seeing our coach Louise from DaisyWay through the lactic haze, cheering the race on from the side of the road. Under the circumstances, I tried to be friendly, but I don't think I succeeded.

Bonte had the best seat in the house!

Eventually, after what seemed an age of high paced suffering, we turned off the fast, wide gravel road, and onto some slightly uphill jeep track. I don't think it is normal, but I was enjoying the hills far more than the flat stuff, and was far more comfortable keeping up with Craig as soon as the trail went up.

Focussed and determined

The Epic route went straight past the guest house where Yolanda and Bonte had spent the night, and it was a pleasant surprise seeing them on the side of the trail, cheering us on with great enthusiasm. After the morning's hardships it lifted the spirits quite a bit.

With Craig's effort in the first hour, we were back up amongst the rest of the B riders, and slowly my legs were getting into the riding. The route had also gotten quite sandy, and my new found sand riding skills were being put to great use.

Ready to tackle the last 40kms

My list of teams to beat had acquired a new team - and I didn't even put them there. I think it was a Hermanus inspired addition, but the new team to beat was Auric Auto. With our mishaps of the previous couple of days, they had beaten us quite comprehensibly. Yet, there they were, just in front of us. It was around this time that I went from feeling like I was surviving, to feeling good, after about 3 hours of riding. There were some climbs, there were some targets up ahead. I was happy. And I also thought that it was time for a bit of pay back. Craig's turn to hang on. Unfortunately, that only lasted about 20 mins, and then I had to concede defeat again, and return to my spot, on Craig's back wheel.

Thankfully, my legs diud get better, and I was able to do more and more of the work. We eventually caught the Auric Auto team, and while they tried to hook on, we succeeded in riding them off our back wheels. By this time, I really needed the second water point to appear. After flying through a wet mielie field, and then a patch of really wet and smelly cow poo - we both looked and smellt a little worse for wear. And thankfully, just al ittle bit further and the waterpoint appeared. Time to gulp down some cokes, wipe the cow poo from my face, and clean my glasses.

Leaving waterpoint 2

We had a short 40kms ahead of us, but nothing at the epic is ever easy, even if Dr Evil says the following:
‘This is the easiest day except for stage 7. Save something for the end though. It all looks deceptively easy and fairly fl at. So push, but don’t overextend.’

Yet again, Craig and I were going in opposite directions, I was getting stronger, and he was starting to feel the exertions of the morning rush, and our positions changed. I was now on the front, with Craig on my wheel. We were heading back towards Greyton, and the stage was almost over. Or so we thought. With Greyton in view up ahead, and a nice flat fast gravel road leading towards it, we made a sharp right turn towards the mountains, and away from our desired destination. The riding was tough - rutted, steep jeep track with only one line to follow. I rode on up ahead, letting Craig ride his own pace.

We found ourselves riding with Tom Ritchey and his Team Rwanda team mate. On one of the downhills I thought I would show this old ballie how to ride a bike, and snuck into the downhill before him. Next thing I see is this handlebar mustache flying past me, on the bad line, looking far too comfortable and in perfect control. After all, he is one of the fathers of mountain biking! Plenty of years to practice.

After a few more twists and climbs, each one sapping the moral (and legs) more than the previous one, we found ourselves on outskirts of Greyton. We were ahead of Auric Auto, and the faffers, yet we both felt quite knackered. There hadn't been too many things to enjoy about the day's riding, and were both only too glad to cross the finish line in 6 hours and a couple of seconds.

White line fever - just a little too slow for the photographer!

Suffering from brain fail - what was the question again?

Time to eat, relax, get a massage and chill. As a treat to our bikes they too were getting some attention - new cables, and filling up on the slime in the tyres, along with the usual wash and lube. Hopefully the next stage would be more exciting.

Covered in cow poo and mud

Moaning to Louise about the fast start!

Just to keep us on our toes, the organisers had decided to play mind games with us. Usually, the truck that contains the single-source drinking water is in an easy to find location. Not today. They kept moving it around. Just when you though you knew where it was, they would move it, and make you have to hnt for it. Great if you are a 5 year old, but after a hard days riding, hunt-the-water-truck is not a game most cyclists enjoy playing!