Panorama Tour 2011

When the Earth was made, each geographical region was given an option to select a special feature that would make it unique. Cape Town chose Table Mountain, Johannesburg went for gold, Bloemfontein forgot to hand in their request, and through a clerical error, the Lowveld's request for a single hill was misinterpreted as a request for hills. All surplus hills were delivered to the Lowveld with the result that you'll be hard pressed to find a flat piece of tar longer than 200m.

It wasn't until after we had entered the 2011 Panorama Tour that we got hold of an atlas and looked up exactly where White River is that we realised just what we were in for. Hills, hills, hills. After getting a wake up call at the Grape Escape when my partner out climbed me I vowed to not let that happen again. The solution was a two pronged approach - a rigorous training program, focusing on hills and time in the saddle, and a diet loosely based on the nutritional habits of the Dwarf Hotot rabbit.

Team 5339.co.uk finishing another stage.

After an epic plane/road trip up from the Cape we arrived in White River, our lungs already gasping in the thin air. The only positive was that we had brought the Cape winter weather with us, and instead of temperatures in the high 30s, we could look forward to sub 20C temperatures and miserable drizzle and rain for the entire event.

The feature that makes the Panorama Tour unique (apart from the over-abundance of hills) is the two-man team concept. Much like the trend set in mountain bike races like The Cape Epic and Sani2C, the team concept adds a new dimension to bike racing. Interesting tactics come into play, but nothing is more important than being stronger than your partner. The benefits include an easier ride up the hills and the chance to look around at the stunning scenery while the only obligations are an encouraging push here and there and doing a bit of work on the front when the situation requires it.

Tastiest Chelsea bun ever!

Stage One's route description was sufficiently vague enough to give the impression that the organisers had miraculously found 113km of slightly undulating road around all the bigs hills of the Lowveld. As we would slowly come to realise, route descriptions were an obvious weakness of the organising committee. I have volunteered my services for future events, and as a start I would like to offer this description for Stage One: A lung busting climb to the hotspot followed by a life threatening downhill. Some legs ripping rollers before an Alpe d'Huez like climb, with a run in to the finish that will have you wondering how you can ride more uphill than downhill on a route that starts and finishes at the same place!

The snacks made everyone forget about the hills!

Team 5339.co.uk were slightly humiliated on the first stage, with several mixed teams leaving us for dead, as well as the social MTN teams of current and former professionals. The only positive being that I had regained the stronger partner title. The girls had a much better time of things, stopping at all the water points making sure they got good value for their money, and made some friends from the East Rand in the form of the Psycle Maniacs.

The Panorama Book of Horror - not for the faint hearted!

According to the aptly renamed Panorama Book of Horror, Stage Two would be a comfortable, fast 80km ride heading out towards Nelspruit with a few gentle hills on the run in back to White River. The reality was slightly different: A blisteringly fast departure from town down a road more suited for mountain biking with potholes the size of small family cars, followed by a leg numbing climb before another speed wobble inducing series of downhills to the outskirts of Nelspruit. From there it is a balls-to-the-wall race up 20km of short sharp climbs to the welcoming sight of the finish.

Kruger snackpack - holds 3 beers perfectly

Team 5339.co.uk had a much better day out, mainly thanks to the lack of hills in the early part of the stage, and finished a handful of minutes behind the leaders. Our egos were restored as we rode several minutes into the mixed teams, and our place on GC looked a bit more respectable. The girls had given up any notions of racing, and instead were enjoying the tour part of the Panorama Tour, stopping at water points and taking in the scenery and making new friends.

An elephant with a fascinator

With the short fast stage behind us we headed off to the Kruger National Park for a rapid game viewing trip. After several false alarms, and boring bird sightings (both mostly Yolanda's fault) we hit the jack pot and saw some elephants and kudu AT THE SAME TIME. With the whole world interested in Princess Beatrice's fascinator, the elephant tried to get in on the action. Looking like strange German tourists in tights we had lunch on top of a rock outside Skukuza, before slowly heading back to civilisation.

Where are the animals?

While the Panorama Book of Horror tried its best to downplay the severity of Stage Three, we had mastered the ability of reading between the lines in order to know what lay in wait for us. The first half of Stage Three was the same as the last half of Stage one, in reverse. All the torturous uphills were now going to be lightning quick downhills, and vice versa, and then we would be faced with the murderous climb of Long Tom Pass. The last section would be the reverse of the first section of Stage Two, so once again we would be dodging swimming pool sized potholes as we tore our legs off up the climbs back into White River. Throw in some pouring rain and thick mist and Stage Three promised to have the adrenalin flowing (I quickly made sure my life insurance was up to date!).

Beer and a tractor certainly beats Game and a bicycle!

By now, Team 5339.co.uk were starting to find their legs, and after a hell raising descent into Sabie in blinding rain and near impenetrable mist we found ourselves (rather suprisingly) with the lead bunch. Riding our own pace up Long Tom Pass in zero visibility we reached the welcoming left turn a couple of minutes behind the leaders and then then tried to motivate a rather lethargic bunch to chase them down. We ended up doing most of the work and paid the price as we ran out of legs on the climb back into White River. Once again, the girls had a good day out, enjoying the pizza and vodka on offer at the last water point and finishing with their new best friends - the Psycle Maniacs.

The ladies in their time trial outfits - made them 7.84 seconds faster!

The Panorama Book of Horror was exceptionally kind about the 20 odd kilometer time trail that lay ahead of us for Stage Four, but we knew better by now. And to make us a little homesick, the weather had once again turned foul. The ladies started quite early on, and had a good solid ride to cap off a great long weekend of racing riding. Team 5339.co.uk set off with the afterburners glowing, and blitzed the first half of the course, my fear of riding downhills temporarily cured by the atrocious conditions of the previous day. Just when I was starting to do some sums about our overall time disaster struck and I punctured. With the precision of a Formula 1 pit crew we had the wheel off, tube out, new tube in, tyre pumped and wheel on in a matter of seconds (probably about 180 to be precise) and the chase was back on. The welcoming Chelsea bun capped off a great weekend's worth of racing.

Tour over - home time!

All that remained of the Panorama Tour was the packing of bikes into boxes, stocking up on avos and macadamia and cashew nuts, and a long drive back to Johannesburg for a plane trip back to the flat roads of Cape Town.

The ABSA Cape Epic - 2011

Two great events happen in the world of South African cycling in March - the roadies get their chance on the second Sunday of March to participate in The Cape Argus, the biggest timed cycling event in the world, and a couple of weeks later it is the chance of the mountain bikers to take on the toughest, most prestigious mountain bike stage race in the world - The ABSA Cape Epic.

This year I was on the other side of the candy tape, a Cape Epic spectator virgin, and I had no idea what to expect. Being a participant in the Epic is rather easy - there is a huge pool of knowledge out there with plenty of people eager to offer advice on training, equipment, nutrition, strategy and almost any other aspect of mountain bike stage racing. To be ready come race day you have to put in the training, make sure the bike is in good working order, and have a solid relationship with your partner - not much else can go wrong once the start gun goes off.

An early morning start for the foreigners

In comparison, being a spectator virgin is much like meeting your future in-laws for the first time. You don't really want to be there and would much rather be riding your bike, but it's one of those things that everybody has to do at least once. You don't know what to wear and inevitably regret your wardrobe decisions - do you wear a finisher's shirt from a previous Epic to show that you were once hardcore too? Do you rather choose an event shirt from another event to show off your versatility? Do you wear an ordinary shirt but make sure everyone can see that you are a cyclist from your legs? Do you run the risk of wearing something that will keep you warm at 6am, but by midday will have you sweating like a Pom on the London Underground in mid-summer? You're unsure of the correct etiquette - do you only shout for teams that you know, or just the teams that look good, or the teams that are struggling and need all the support they can get? Do you jump up and down and scream like you've just won the Lotto when you see your team, or do you instead employ a polite golf clap reserved for hallowed places like the 18th green at Augusta? Are vuvuzela's still all the rage, or is inflicting auditory damage on innocent bystanders so 2010?

Robin - cool and calm, Russell - about to sh*t himself!

And then there is the equipment - do you bring a chair to pass away the hours as you wait for your team that you'll have to haul across the countryside? Is it acceptable to bring a book and read while the front half of the field whizzes past? Do you bring an SLR camera with a four foot lens for that perfect photo, or just a point-and-click and adopt the strategy of taking stacks of photos with the hope that at least a few will be of sufficient quality to make the day worthwhile? Did you charge the camera batteries, or are you going to suffer from acute electrochemical failure just as your team comes into view? What shoes do you wear - do you wear flip-flops and run the risk of blisters and severe chaffing as the Epic organisers are under the mistaken impression that the spectators are as fit as the riders and enjoy the challenge of walking vast distances between the designated parking area and the actual spectator zone, or instead opt for Everest grade hiking boots and look like a missing member of a Kingsley Holgate expedition? And what about food - do you get up extra early to make sandwiches from old bread and left over mince, or do you run the risk of death by Delhi-Belly from the half-cooked greasy burger on offer at the finish for the price of an entry level mountain bike?

A very happy mountain biker!

These were some of the dilemmas that faced me, and while I did receive some tips and hints from my 4-time Epic supporter veteran wife, I think she deliberately stopped short of spilling all the beans. Becoming a seasoned Epic supporter is a rite of passage that one must do alone, and is a test of one's character, endurance, emotional stability, perseverance, navigational acumen and resourcefulness. You feel the scrutiny you are under from the other spectator veterans as they see if you have what it takes to join their ranks. It's hard work, but being part of the Epic experience makes it all worthwhile, even if it entails standing on the wrong side of the candy tape.

Completely shattered

The Argus - 2011

The annual Cape Argus Cycle Tour is more than just a bike race, it is a Cape institution. Like pilgrims to Mecca, it attracts cyclists from all over  South Africa, and once a year cycling takes over the streets of Cape Town.

Often called the Fun Ride World Champs, it is the yardstick by which all cyclists are measured. Forget about the Tour de France, or Paris-Roubaix - win The Argus and you have a lifetime's worth of bragging rights. It's the one title seven times Tour De France winner and former World Champ Lance Armstrong so desperately wanted to win before retiring but could only manage a lowly 9th place. It's the one blemish in an otherwise outstanding palmarès.

Lance could only manage 9th place in 2010.

The Cape Argus isn't just a 110km bike ride - it's an experience that starts the previous week with Grape Escape and Argus Mountain Bike Challenge. With those out of the way, it's off to the Life Cycle Expo for registration, although registration is only a small part of what happens at the Good Hope Centre. The Expo caters for those last minute must have purchases, the impulse buys, the "ride you fastest Argus ever" supplements, and the "never to be seen again" discounts. It gives each cyclist the opportunity to suss out the competition, to show off their (freshly) shaved legs, and to be the center of attention for 30 seconds as they receive their race pack. For one week, it is all about the bike.

The secret is out.

The 13th of March dawned - Race Day, and after two years of rather atrocious weather, we were greeted with possibly the best cycling weather the Cape has seen in months. While this is great for cycling 110kms around the Cape peninsula, us locals feel a little hard done by. We've had to endure months and months of howling South Easters, and now all the visitors to the Cape think we have perfect weather all the time, and that we live in a cycling Utopia. Well, we don't, and we've certainly had to pay our dues to the cycling gods.

Our puncture competition opposition dishing out the pain.
From I-FELT-the-FORCE on the Hub.

From our usual parking spot near the SARS building (they are open at 5:30 in the morning, and will let you use the toilet - our tax money hard at work) we got ready for what would be our 15th Argus in a row. While the nerves might be a little calmer than they were in 1997, several nervous visits to the SARS building were required before I headed off to line to join the Not-So-Young-Racing-Snakes category, who this year had the honour of riding with the racing ladies. The air was crisp and smelled of the sea, punctuated by the smell of the Porta Potty's and excessive deodorant. I'm pretty sure several Sub Vet riders saw this as an opportunity to pick up a hot racing lady. The only catch being that many of the racing ladies were probably faster than most of the Sub Vets.

Another Argus start.

At 6:24 we were off, and at roughly 6:32 we had our first crash in the bunch. Nothing serious, but enough for the air to be filled with the smell of brakes, melting rubber and bruised egos. Twenty minutes later we had another crash on the Blue Route and the smell of rotting garden waste from a nearby tip was blended with grazed skin and testosterone, but thankfully no one was seriously hurt. This would be the pattern in an otherwise uneventful circuit around the Peninsula - everyone watching everyone else, and the rest of us only too grateful to still be in the bunch.

When roadies crash, they crash properly.

We rode up Chapman's Peak like it was flat, the fresh sea smells mixing nicely with the body odour of the rider in front of me and before we knew it we were on the lower slopes of the dreaded Suikerbossie. A haze of bacon and eggs and boerewors rolls hung in the air as we rudely whizzed past the spectators enjoying their breakfast. With the usual suspects all around me - Craig, Marius, Zayin - we made it over the top after a brief 30 second scare as we scrambled to get onto the wheels ahead of us, but we needn't worried - the race was going to go down to a sprint finish 14kms away in front of Cape Town Stadium.

The Sub Vets and Ladies sprint finish

As the dedicated riders that we are, Craig and I decided to get some TV time for our sponsors by going to the front and taking a turn. It sounded like a great plan until we actually got to the front and realised just how much effort was required, and also noticed that the TV cameraman was more interested in filming the scenery of the coastline than the two 5339 riders on the front. Our turn done we disappeared back into the obscurity of the bunch, now just interested in getting to the line in one piece. Just when we thought there was nothing more to worry about, Craig had a slight tumble, safely falling on top of a hay bale and another rider. A short scramble later we were back in the bunch and crossing the finish line in a time of 2h49:59.

Apparently he didn't lose a bet!

The Dulux ladies had been rather coy about their target time, downplaying any suggestions of a personal best. A quick two-women time trial later they managed to cross the line in an amazing time of 3h30, convincingly beating most of the names on their list of nemeses (Nadine, The Runner, and Lexi).

The Famous Argus Cool Down Beer Run.

Craig and I embarked on our post Argus cool down, which entails having a beer in Kalk Bay, another in Glen Cairn, lunch and a beer in Noordhoek, pushing some struggling cyclists up Chapman's Peak, one last beer in Hout Bay, and pushing some other struggling cyclists up Suikerbossie. It's at the back where the true Argus is ridden - the weekend warriors relying a little too heavily on muscle memory and regretting the lack of training, battling the wind, the gradients, their ill fitting cycling shorts, their heavy and poorly serviced bicycles and each other - all with grit and sheer determination. To us it's just a medal, but to them it is an achievement and that is why we all keep on coming back for more. Bring on 2012.

Two cyclists who got rather side tracked in a pub in Glen Cairn.

The Grape Escape - 2011

Every year during the month of March, the Cape becomes the unofficial capital of cycling in South Africa. With events like The Cape Argus Cycle Tour, The Giro del Capo, The Argus Mountain Bike Challenge, The Tour de Boland and The Cape Epic you'd be excused for thinking that everyone's needs were catered for. Meurant Botha of Dirtopia fame didn't agree, and saw an opportunity for a mountain bike stage race through the winelands of the Western Cape, geared towards the average weekend warrior who wanted to give stage racing a go, but didn't want the commitment or have the budget to attempt some of the other stage races on offer. And so the Grape Escape was born.

Meurant Botha, with Dr Evil aspirations, promised an "achievable route that would incorporate the best features that the diverse terrain options present". This is code for "it's going to be tough, and you are going to hurt, but you'll have fun and will soon forget the pain once you get your medal at the finish". Any final delusions that this was going to be a sedate bike ride through the farmlands outside Cape Town where dashed when word got out that the likes of Kevin Evans, David George, Burry Stander, Christoph Sauser, and Karl Platt would be lining up with the rest of us weekend warriors. After several rounds of creative brainstorming and voting, I dictatorially chose the team name Blind Melons for our latest adventure. To confuse the pro's we had a B team wearing the same kit as us - some mates doing their first ever stage race, calling themselves Team Tired Raisins (we quickly renamed them to the Wrinkly Raisins). One year ago, one member of The Wrinklies was doing his first MTB race - the 25km Argus MTB race.

Stage One - Big Bay to Nelson's Creek

After a 2h30 car trip from Somerset West, several border crossings and time zone changes later we arrived at Big Bay with a handful of minutes to spare before the 9am start. The sun was already blazing away and rather uncharacteristically, there wasn't a breath of wind as we snuck into the back of our start chute. Team Wrinkly Raisins had been in the start chute for hours, and had hopefully out-psyched our competition. Our immediate goal was to beat John and Pieter - John being the weaker half of Team Heading for Divorce at Wines2Whales.

It was a long road trip to get to the start

The stage started off with a 8km neutral tar section which was great - that was 8km less that I would have to chase Craig for. The only risk being the riders around us - putting a whole lot of mountain bikers together in a big bunch is a recipe for disaster and it was no surprise when several riders went down before we had even left the tar. As soon as we hit the dirt the bunch stretched out and the racing started. Team Blind Melons were flying, passing riders left and right as we made fantastic progress from the back of the bunch, the matching 29ers loving the flat fast course. And then disaster struck 5 minutes after leaving the tar. Craig nicked something as we rode under a railway line, past a pair of red high-heels. As we were bemoaning our bad luck and fitting a tube, The Wrinklies came past us - they were going to have to fly the flag today - we had heard about another unofficial competition and were eager to compete, after already claiming the prize for the earliest puncture on the stage.

Is there a better backdrop to cycling than this?

With only bragging rights up for grabs, this unofficial competition centered around punctures. Three points for a side wall cut, two points for a puncture in a slime tube, and one point for a puncture in a standard tube. Convincing strangers to part with their tubes is worth an additional point. Bonus points would be given for creative approaches to fixing the above mentioned punctures. The rules were strict though - no intentional tyre sabotage would be accepted, just the general riding conditions on route. With less than an hour of riding done we were well placed with 11 points and no spare tubes left. The competition was fierce as riders lined the side of the route, pumping, bombing and patching away like crazy. In a stunning piece of creativity, Craig managed to bag us an additional 7 points as he somehow managed pop his tyre off the rim, in the process leaving an 8cm side wall cut and puncturing our last tube. After asking roughly 200 riders if they had a tube for us and receiving nothing but blank stares rider #1257 kindly donated his tube to our cause. With two gaiters, a bit of swearing and lots of pumping we finally got going again, now right down amongst the back markers.

The Professor, me, Craig, and the Race Snake, all representing 5339.co.uk

By the time we made the first water point they were about to pack up and leave, all the coke was finished and the water was luke warm from the 40C+ temperatures. We grabbed a spare tube and some duct tape from our dedicated (and somewhat disappointed) supporters and set off on our merry way, trying to make up some lost time. As we raced on to the next water point, our supporters raced to Chris Willemse Cycles to buy a new tyre, just in case. Meurant was right - this was a race for the whole family!

Duct tape ingenuity.

We'd barely left the water point when we scored another point, and I've put in an appeal for additional points for variety and creativity - unlike the previous punctures this one was a snake bite. As half the field once again passed us, snickering and chuckling, we fixed the puncture and headed off, again. After a long an uneventful 20 minutes we stopped again, this time to do some running repairs on the side wall tear which involved the liberal application of duct tape to keep everything together. As we got going again, thinking we were clear leaders in the puncture competition, we passed Christoph Sauser flapping and waving his arms about, gesticulating wildly, and directing some angry Swiss words towards a flat wheel. Suddenly the competition was on, and this was one race the skinny Swiss rider was not going to win!

Hot, tired and grumpy, but winners of the unofficial puncture competition.

The next 30kms of tar and gravel gave us little opportunity to puncture, but we did catch The Wrinklies who were starting to take after their team name as they started to feel the heat. At least some serious embarrassment had been avoided. With opportunities now few and far between, we made good use of a patch of thorns when riding through a vineyard to once again score 3 points. As luck would have it, we had chosen quite a good spot to stop, and I had some time to sample the different grape cultivars, much to Craig's annoyance as he fixed the puncture on his own. I would have thought that he would be an expert by now, but he still needed some guiding assistance which I reluctantly offered, tearing myself away from the tasty grapes. Thanks to rider #1133 for donating his tube to our cause and scoring us an additional point. Two minutes up the road we passed the devious skinny Swiss, still waving his arms about, fixing another puncture. He was good, and was not going to go down without a fight.

Glad Stage One is over!

From there on in the race was rather uneventful, and we actually had to pedal for more 20 minutes at a time and before we knew it, we crossed the finish line at Nelson's Creek, all chances of a top performance gone, but with the coveted unofficial puncture award safely in our hands.

Stage Two - Nelson's Creek to Boschendal

With the adventure of Stage One behind us we decided to get down to some serious bike racing, and once again managed to sneak into the back of the start chute with minutes to spare. Have I been hanging around Craig for too long that I now too faff and fiddle as much? In a haze of dust and sweat we set off eager to avenge the misfortunes of the previous day. The route promised to be a little more exciting than the previous day's and would once again favour the big wheeled 29ers.

The pre-race faff with minutes to spare to the start!

I set the pace for 40 minutes as we weaved and snaked our way through the field. Craig then took it upon himself to dish out 2 hours of pain and suffering as he drove us on towards the big climb of the day. We caught Hector (aka The Professor), another Hermanus local who is starting to look a lot like Laurent Fignon and let him tag along in our little posse. We also caught John and Pieter, and although they had over an hour on us from the previous stage, we were eager to get one back on them.

The Pro's

The route was fantastic - a little bit of everything, and probably the closest you will come to an Epic stage without actually doing an Epic. There were certain sections where Meurant could have competed with Dr Evil, but instead thought of the riders and chose the easier option. The riding was good, the route was well marked, the water points were well stocked (banana bread, peanut butter sandwiches, biltong, banans, ice cold grapes - I'm bringing a lunch box next time for take aways) and there were plenty of marshals along the way. The same could not be said about the locations of the spectator points which were pretty much kept a secret, except for a select few. We did eventually spot our support crew with about 10kms to go, shouting and cheering us on as we whizzed by.

David George waiting to pounce!

With the finish line at Boschendal almost in sight we started to slow, but the combination of white line fever and the urge to beat John got us to the finish line in good time. The demons of the previous day had been laid to rest.

The Dane Train

The Wrinkly Raisins had a long day out, but finished in one piece, although there were reports of an emergency visit to the pharmacy for bum chafe related products.

Stage Three - Boschendal

With maximum temperature for the previous two days reaching well into the 40s, the promise of cooler weather for the final stage of the Grape Escape seemed to be to everyone's liking. Once again we snuck into the back of the start chute with minutes to spare, and after a half hearted apology from Meurant for lying about the route distances, we were once again racing (I thought mountain bikers were supposed to be tough!).

Two Niners off to the race.

Today was Nelly's birthday and I'd really hoped that we'd be able to have a good ride, but as the race unfolded I was convinced my bike had been sabotaged - try as I might I just couldn't get her going and my legs felt like sacks of gooey cheese. Craig proceeded to extract revenge for the Grape Incident of Stage One and cranked up the pace as I desperately tried to hang on for dear life, hoping my legs would wake up and decide to actually participate in the race.

It's hard to smile after three hours of Craig Pain.

Christoph Sauser's bad luck from day one had rubbed off onto his Epic partner, Burry Stander, and he yo-yo'ed around us for the early parts of the stage. I felt under a bit of pressure as I took a corner with several guys all following my line, including Burry. Would he approve? Before I could ask him he was gone, effortlessly speeding away from us weekend warriors.

You'd swear he wasn't on the front.

As the stage wore on, a strange thing started to happen - we started to catch and pass riders. My legs weren't feeling any better, and I was still having to bite down on my handlebars just to keep up with Craig, but we were once again going forward. Perhaps the exertions of the previous days were catching up with those around us, or perhaps they had gone out too hard too early. Whatever it was, it gave me a glimmer of hope that something could be salvaged from Stage Three. And then the near impossible happened - we caught a glimpse of John and immediately my legs went from gooey cheese to stodgy pâté, and my jaw tightened on the handlebars - we had a target to chase down!

Still got lock jaw from biting the handlebars.

With 10kms to go we caught John and Pieter, and after some silly roadie talk of us all riding to the finish line together humming Kumbaya, we dropped them like a bad smell in a wind tunnel. By now my legs were starting to wake up a little and we went in search of  targets, quickly catching and passing several more riders on our way to the finish line. We managed to avoid some embarrassing finish line handlebar entanglement and safely crossed the line for our best placing all weekend, collecting another well earned medal.

The Professor, Craig, me and Little John.

The Wrinkly Raisins put in another good performance, enjoying the route and amenities on hand, finishing just in time for lunch to the cheers of their supporters. I hope to see them regularly at events in the future, and a collection is being put together to fund some new shorts for one half of the team...

The Wrinklies - all smiles and ready for the next challenge.