Epic 2009 - Stage 4

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!

Coke or recovery? Two hands, one mouth!

Highlights of the day: Passing Tom Ritchey as he ate an apple.
Lowlights of the day: Fast starts, boring riding, being passed by Tom Ritchey

A hedge jumping, garden wrecking German.

Stage
GC 90 Cat 63 6:00.09,6
Total Time
24:28.39,30

Epic 2009 - Stage 3

Date: 24 March 2009
Start/Finish: Villiersdorp to Greyton
Distance: 73km
Climbing: 1976m
Cut-off time: 15:00

Stage 3 had us leaving the quiet seclusion of Villiersdorp, and heading off the the even quieter and more tranquil town of Greyton, over some particularly steep and nasty mountains that just happened to lie between the two towns.

We had ridden some of this route previously, and we thought we had a good idea of what was in store for us today. A mad uphill start to soften us up and get the heart pumping, followed by a short, sharp descent before the big climb of the day awaited us. We had been hearing all sorts of rumours about this climb, but no one really knew what to expect. Apparently it was completely unridable, and even the pros would be walking. This is what I hate - having an inkling of what lies ahead of me. I prefer to tackle the obstacles as they come, and not have to worry about the pain and suffering that will be dished out later in the day. Craig, on the other hand (Darren), likes to know details like this, as well as distances to water points, climbs and other interesting obstacles along the route.

A good nights sleep, and ready for the stage.

I could do with a few more hours of sleep.

For the first time so far, we had to cram the ever increasing chaos in our tents into the big black bags. The neatly folded and organised contents of my bag was slowly yielding to the chaos. And things were starting to multiply. The space was getting less, and it seemed like I had brought way too much stuff that just wasn't ever going to get used. You would swear this was my first Epic. Clearly I haven't learnt how to effectively pack just the essentials yet...

Team Lefty and Fox were in high spirits this morning after yesterday's victory over us, although Cillier was already starting to take strain. His Achilles heal was not his heal at all, but rather his bum. And it was starting to ache. It is always quite funny to laugh at another's discomfort as long as it doesn't happen to you. We've all had bum sores, so we knew exactly what he was going through, which made it quite funny!

Etienne, preparing for a cold morning ride in the Overberg.

Right from the start we started climbing, and would continue going up for about an hour in the hills above Villiersdorp. Having ridden this section previously, we knew where to push it, and where to catch our breath. The only difference this time around was that there were over a thousand other cyclists competing for the same patch of dirt that we were on. And when one rider gets it wrong and has to dismount, we all have to dismount. And yet there is always one guy who refuses to wait his turn and insists we all get out of his way. Another team onto my list. Craig seemed to cured of whatever had been affecting him on day one and two, and rode like the clappers (when we could ride) up that first hill. The sweat was pouring off me, and I was frantically trying to stay hydrated, and within touch of Craig.

The leaders racing up the hill out of town.

We made the top of that first hill in good time, and had a short sharp descent on some off-cambered jeep track to deal with. In the trial ride I had struggled quite a bit here, and so went ahead of Craig. To my surprise, I made it through without any mishaps, only to hear Craig connecting with mother earth twice. I was quite chuffed that I had ridden a downhill section better than Craig - doesn't happen too often. Luckily, they were gentle crashes and no damage was done.

The faffers shadowing us closely.

Once at the bottom, we raced through the first water point without stopping, although this was going to play on my mind for the rest of the day. Just to make sure I stayed topped up, I ate my banana and had a Gu. We had a fast section ahead of us to the bottom of the big climb of the day, and to our disappointment, the faffers were right behind us. We hadn't been able to loose them at the waterpoint.

Ask any first time rider what they were most worried about for this year's Epic, and they would mention the 3km portage on day 3. Now I have done quite a bit of walking with my bike on my shoulders in previous Epic's that I wasn't too worried about the little walk that lay ahead of us. How hard can it be? As it turns out, I should have been worried - this was the toughest portage I have ever done. To get an idea of how steep it was, when I looked ahead of me at the next rider about 2 meters in front of me, all I saw were his ankles. I heard one rider saying that for ever 25 steps he took, we were climbing 10m. This was the section that Mark Fish had to pull out on, after walking in his socks because of the size of his blisters.

Mark Fish, in his socks.

Every now and then, we would get a break, and be able to ride for a couple of meters before the path turned up again. In places it was so steep that there was no option to push your bike - you had to carry it on your back. Now imagine me, and my amazing upper body trying to get this right. In those 3 kms, I think my arms muscles doubled in size! In addition, I got another compliment from Craig - "Not bad going for someone who doesn't run". He quickly made me pay for that compliment - as soon as we could ride again, he put the hammer down and flew up the remainder of the hill. I had no choice but to hang on for dear life. My calves were paining, my quads were aching, my back was sore, my arms were wobbly - and yet we flew up the rest of that mountain. The payback was some nice fast downhill where we were able to make up some good ground. Just before the next climb, with Craig on the front and me right behind we took a wrong turn and ended up in a dry river bed, with no sign of where to go next. And to top it all off, the guys who had been sucking our wheels have the cheek to moan and complain about us leading them astray.

We had a short climb ahead of us, followed by a long, fast downhill section, back to the valley floor. All the guys we had lead astray were now ahead of us, and holding us (more me) up on the descent. This seemed to be the trend for the rest of the day. Guys climb better than us, and demand we move over for them, but when it comes to the downhills, they don't return the courtesy. We reckoned that they must be roadies, or come from some place that is very flat. Like Holland.

When last did you see a white horse?

Back on the valley floor, on a wide district road I was still suffering from all the hiking, and let Craig do all the work on the front. I don't think I had done an ounce of work all day, other than just trying to keep up. The good news was the faffers were nowhere to be seen, after spending the morning shadowing us, they had finally dropped back.

Craig, making everything is still ok.

Ready to go!

With Greyton around the corner, the Epic route organisers had decided to take us into the hills again, in an effort to make up some distance. We had the treat of riding some really nice uphill single track (and doing a little walking too). I was starting to feel good, but at the same time Craig was fading. I reckon that on the day when we both feel good at the same time we will have an awesome ride.

Our tents, in the "bad" neighbourhood - near the Brazilians.

Home for the next two nights.

The last water point of the stage was with 9kms to go. You just know they have something torturous planned when they do that. In comparison with the mountains we had already been over, the last few kilometers were nothing, but with 2 and a half days of riding in our legs, we felt them. And we suffered. Sometimes it is easier to admit defeat and hop off and push, rather than try to ride, and Craig and I were doing plenty of this. Unfortunately, this meant that the guys who go uphill well were able to pass us, and become obstacles for us on the descents.

That was tough, and dirty!

We finally made it into Greyton, past our waiting supporters, to the finish line in a respectable 4:41. This would give us the whole afternoon to rest, eat and recover, and I certainly needed to recover. My legs were quite knackered from all the walking, and the afternoon massage was one of complete pain. I had knots and aches everywhere, and I think Jayne quite enjoyed working them out. It was reassuring to know that as sore as I was, Cillier was going to be in more pain, and be far more expressive about it.

Our spot along the finishing straight.

Just our luck - I thought we had escaped the noisy Brazilians once we left Villiersdorp, but it soon turned out they had followed us, and once again, were camped out in the row behind us. The only blessing was that they were starting to feel the exertions of the Epic, and so there loudness and chatiness was being affected. I think Brazilians are uncomfortable with silence, and will use any opportunity to fill it, at the top of their voices. Good thing I had ear plugs and a sleeping tablet!

In my compression pants, still aching after the massage

Highlights of the day: An almost top 50 in our category
Lowlights of the day: Mountain goats who can't go downhill fast!

Adrian and his Specialized lackies fixing and cleaning expensive bikes

Stage
GC 83 Cat 56 4:41.10,2
Total Time
18:28.30,24

Epic 2009 - Stage 2

Date: 23 March 2009
Start/Finish: Villiersdorp
Distance: 110km
Climbing: 1527m
Cut-off time: 17:00



As day 2 of the Cape Epic dawned on us, things felt a little strange. Today was a circular route around Villiersdorp, and our first introduction into what some people were calling the "Great Circle Route". On the one hand it was nice not having to pack all my worldly Epic possessions into the big black bag. On the other hand, we were going to race for 6 hours and end up back where we started. Where is the sense of achievement in that? I was quite happy to rather jog around the school athletics track and head back to my tent for another hour or two of sleep.

The flat lands, surrounded by hills - perfect for an Epic stage

The leaders flying through the Hot Spot

After the slight wobble of the previous stage, we were going to take it "easy" today. As easy as one can when facing 110kms with 1572m of climbing. To add to our issues - Craig didn't have his heart rate monitor strap with him, so determining "easy" wasn't going to be that easy.

The "bedrooms" in Villiersdorp

As usual, the backup crew of Yolanda and Bonte arrived at our tents just before the start. It is always encouraging seeing some friendly faces. To get the heart rate monitor strap to Craig, they were going to have to break some speed records in order to get back to meet us at the second checkpoint at 52kms, which happened to be at the oldest unrestored farmhouse in South Africa, Brandvlei Cellar.

The "bathroom"

We had managed to hang on to our C seeding, clearly we were not the only riders who suffered yesterday. We thought this would also help us out with our "easy" day. At 7am the gun went off, and we found ourselves heading out of town on the tar road. As usual, the pace was high with people jostling for position. I had my first scare of the race and afterwards realised just how lucky I was. I was following Craig on the left edge of the road when the road narrowed. Being on mountain bikes, this was no problem to Craig, and he just continued straight ahead onto the gravel. Seemed like a good plan, and I followed. Little did I know that on my left hand side, slightly behind me was a mountain bike who did really like Craig's plan, and so tried to squeeze into the bunch to avoid the gravel by steering right. Into me. Our handle bars locked and we both came crashing down. We were probably doing about 30km/h at the time. Fortunately, I mostly fell on him and his bike, and didn't end up loosing too much skin. I did take quite a knock to my knee, elbow and shoulder though. The other rider jumped up without saying a word, got on his bike and rode away. I taught him a couple of choice Afrikaans swear words that I won't repeat here. Needless to say, he went straight to the top of my list of people to beat!

The Epic teaches the art of queuing

I was a little worried about the knock to my knee, especially after all drama it had been through in the last 8 months. Thankfully, the riding was tough enough to keep my mind occupied. Almost as soon as we turned off the tar onto the dirt riders started falling - we were riding across some badly eroded ground, and riders were losing their front wheels in ditches and holes. Several riders broke collar bones and wrists there. Thankfully, there were enough bodies lying on the ground to act as warning beacons when we came through that we escaped unscathed.

Francois, and every one's favorite German - Mike Mike

I made a discovery that would become a habit throughout the rest of the Epic. Breakfast is usually a dull affair consisting of trying to cram as much food into your body as you can stomach, and then having a little more. No one really eats breakfast because they are hungry (except possibly Craig). You eat breakfast so that in 6 hours time you won't hit the wall and bonk completely. After a large bowl of oats, two pieces of toast with scrambled eggs, tomato and cheese, and some fruit juice I was stuffed. But Craig was still tucking into his second serving of eggs on toast. I was worried. What if I ran out of energy? There was no way Craig would with all that food in his stomach. So I took a banana for the ride. After about an hour of moderate suffering I thought it was time to try the banana. While I didn't feel an immediate effect, it was enough to take my mind off the riding, and get rid of the taste of energy drink in my mouth. The fact that I had good legs all day - not sure if the banana was responsible, but I wasn't going to fiddle with something that worked. So, for the rest of the Epic I would have a banana after about an hour of riding - sometimes sooner if I was struggling.

Hanging onto the back of the bunch - my second home

Etienne and Cillie had started with us in C, but very quickly rode away from us on the hills. What a surprise to look back over our shoulders after the first water point to see them pedaling like crazy to try to rejoin the nice little bunch we were in. As they said - they like to get value out of their stops - they paid good money to enjoy the free coke and energade.

The section between water point one and two was flat and fast, and dusty. I think I put on a kilo from all the dust I ate that morning. I struggled with the pace, and suffered quite a bit - definitely one of the tougher sections of the stage for me. The only plus was that the kilometers were flying by. Before long we reached the MTN Hot Spot and spectator point where our supporters and fans had been eagerly waiting for us. So eager in fact that they had been wine tasting. At nine in the morning. This was also the spot where Bonte was going to give Craig his heart rate monitor strap. Like someone doing an illicit drug deal, she sneakily stuck out a hand and passed the strap. A misspent youth in Roosevelt Park, observing the locals in Sea Point, some tips from Hawstone - who knows? But certainly effective - no one saw a thing.

Strap exchange done - off to the next water point

It wasn't long before we made the next water point, and even though Craig had to pretty much get undressed to put the heart rate monitor strap on, and I needed a toilet break, we once again left the water point ahead of the faffers. The daily highlight of the 2nd water point each day was the lube guy. He would apply a generous spray of lube to our chains, and somehow, after that, the bike would feel like new. Any niggles and problems, either bike or rider related, seemed to vanish.

As tough as the climbs were today, there was an even tougher obstacle in store for us. Sand. It is like riding through treacle - sucking your bike deeper and deeper, and sapping your legs of energy. Getting off and pushing isn't much easier. That's if you can't ride through it. The cycling gods had decided to be kind to me after my poor showing of sand riding at the Argus MTB ride, and somehow my sand skills were in tip top shape. I actually enjoyed the sandy sections - mini challenges every couple of hundred meters. Whether it was me, the tyres, the bike setup I don't know. But together it worked perfectly.

Once the sand had drained the riders both physically and mentally, the hills started. Most of it was ridable, but every know and then there would be a bit a little too steep, or a little too rocky, and the only option was to hop off and push. It was on the top of these sections where the photographers lurked:

This was posted here - famous at last!
"A rider checks that all of his ducklings are following close behind."

The tricky descent made all the climbing worth it, and compared to yesterday, Craig enjoyed this downhill. The only downside was the traffic we bumped into along the way. I am no downhill expert, but even I was going faster than some of these roadies. Talking of which, I hadn't seen my friend from this morning, and all signs were indicating that we were ahead. Good!

Done - wasn't too bad

Glad it's over though

To show that the pros are human too, we passed one of the riders from the Bulls second team walking, smashed front wheel in hand. The obsession with light weight components perhaps not well suited to the tough terrain in the Villiersdorp valley. That pro still finished ahead of us - his partner had gone in search of a wheel, ridden back to him, and then they both came flying past us as if we were stationary. Perhaps they aren't human afterall.

M-u-s-t h-a-v-e c-o-k-e !!

The route now joined the district road before the last climb of the day. This was all old hat to us as we had finished the stage from Malmesbury to Villiersdorp in 2007 along this same route. In true Epic style, we were going to climb up to a cell phone tower that overlooked Villiersdorp. Through a cow patch. Craig was being a policeman again today, as I set the pace along the wide dirt roads towards the climb. The faffers were ahead of us and putting distance into us all the time. Thankfully, there was one more water point, and we were sure we could erase the time deficit there. Another highlight of each stage was trying to spot Frank at the water points. Today he was at water point 3.

The red team (team faffers) got one back on us today

We got to the bottom of the last climb together with Etienne and Cillie, but they were not going to wait around and flew off up the hill. We set a good tempo, and climbed well. By now the sun was baking down on us, and there wasn't a breath of wind to cool us down. We got to the top a couple of minutes behind the competition, but made up some time on the descent until we caught up with a mixed team. With the faffers in sight, riding like men possessed, we could do nothing but wait for the mixed team, eventually finishing a minute or so behind them. 2-1 to them.

Mother and son - I think is smelt a bit - notice the gap ;)

Again, our superb backup crew were on hand to cheer us in, give us our recovery drinks, and listen to the stories. Our bikes again had performed flawlessly, and Francois was on hand to whisk them away for a wash and lube.

Speek from Maverick clowning around and supporting

Bonte reflecting, waiting for her cousin Derek.

The rest of the afternoon was spent eating (same principle as breakfast - eat as much as you can, and then some more), drinking (rehydrate for the next day), relaxing and having Jayne attend to the aches and pains from the days racing.

We turned the pavement into a massage, dining and relaxation area

My turn for Jayne to fix the aches and pains (with Craig napping in the background)

Highlights of the day: The awesome downhill, Bonte's sneaky strap handover, SAND
Lowlights of the day: The crash, my sore knee, losing out to the faffers

Nope - not dead. Just having a nap.

Feet up, compression pants on, a newspaper to read. Perfect

Stage
GC 126 Cat 88 5:39.21,7
Total Time
13:47.20,14

Derek and Cliff made it - 2 down.