live-cycle

Four forty five in the morning and the camp is already alive, torch light flickers over the side of my tent and then as regular as clock work the PA comes on and blasts very bad South African disco music across the campsite.
I’ve now got the routine down to a fine art – dress, bathroom, breakfast, bathroom, bum cream applied, cycling clothes on, sun block on, collect bike, make sure Dennis is still alive, help him put his eyes in and then we set off of to the sign in. “563 one and two” Gloria announces as we check in, “Have fun guys”
Dennis and I share a look that would kill, if she had any idea how much fun it wasn’t!
The start is staggered today, well we have to give the professionals a head start otherwise they would be embarressed by us!
Rolling out of town we stretch our stiff legs and backs, Dennis and I take our time, the first half of the day is going to be hard going.
First climb, rough gravel over soft sand, red this time, and from 5km in we are climbing for a further 22km. The the landscape changes to the burnt out shell of some other world. The crater we are riding through is surrounded by towering jagged peaks, the centre is ash, blackend plants and trees stretch their dead branches in search of the sun. The dust billows from the tyres as we make our way over the barren wasteland. The fire that ravaged this area a week or so ago must have incredible. There is silence in the peleton as we ride in awe of the damage.
Then brakes squeal as we start to descend – the feared Wolfkloof – loose rocks and sand coupled with inclines of 30 – 40 percent mean this is a technical nightmare.
Fighting to keep the bike upright and going forward means a delicate balance of speed and agility. Many riders crashed over the bars, wheels becoming wedged between rocks and a little too heavy on the brakes and suddenly your world turns upside down.
I took some pictures of Dennis powering his way through the lunar landscape

Dennis makes his way across the Wolfkloof

Then as I turned to remount my bike, I saw Dennis somersault gracefully through the air, landing on all fours, cursing.
I dashed down to him, his knees and elbow were bleeding, but not too badly. A quick spray of antiseptic and we were off again. Twenty minutes later Dennis obviously wanted more TLC as he crashed again, same manouver, head first over the bars, landing on his hands and bashing his knees again. Nurse Paul was quickly by his side checking he was ok. Yet again Dennis proved he is a tough as old boots, a quick shake, a drink and we were off again.
Through the water points we were steady then began the 18km climb.
This is where I slightly lost my mind. It’s kind of up to me to keep a check on our time and distance and keep Dennis up to date on our progress. I tried to remember the cut off time and couldn’t then I thought I was a two o’clock cut off. So I shouted back to Dennis we didn’t have long to make the cut. I pushed hard on the ups and the downs. A 2pm cut off meant we only had atotal of 7 hours riding today. I pushed harder, I didn’t want to miss the cut and lose our place on the final stage. Dennis kept asking how we were doing. “Badly, we need to push harder on the downhills, we are running out of time”

We raced through the beautiful Lebanon forest, a sinewy singletrack threaded us through the magnificent pine trees. We were jumping and weaving when Pssssssssst – Dennis had hit a root hard and the back tyre had blown yet again. Thyre changed we pushed on still harder, the pines towering over us. Out into the light and with 15km to go we had half an hour. I must admit I was driving our train a little too hard. My pulse rate was at 178, my legs were screaming, feet burning and my hands ahd gone completely numb.
We caught Mr and Mrs 15th anniversary who said they thought it a four o’clock cut off, well I must split the difference and go for three o’clock then I said to my self. Still urging Dennis onward like a relentless slave driver we flew over the Northshore (that’s logs to those who don’t ride) into the final forest at Oak Valley and we were motoring.

Riders through the dust

We crossed the line and collapsed both exhausted.
The announcer “Mike Mike” declared to the crowd that “The Times team are just finishing, well done guys you made it! These two are from Britain’s finest newspaper, two riders handpicked by Rupert himself!” I looked at Dennis, it turned out that the cut off was 4pm, so we actually finished with over an hour and half to spare – Sorry Dennis! I really must try and get the maths sorted!

I feel exhilirated by today’s ride. We hardly had to get off and push at all, we powered up some ridiculous hills over surfaces that seemed impossible to ride but we did it and were rewarded with a great singletrack finish and some extra time for relaxing.

Exhausted and exhilarated

Tomorrow is the last stage, about 60km, in some ways I’ll be sorry it’s over, but in others I’ll be glad to see the back of the evil that constructed this course.

Judging by some of your comments I think I will be getting some fake tan to sort out my unsightly lines!

This entry was posted on Friday, March 27th, 2009 at 3:32 pm and is filed under Paul. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.