I retrieve my bike from the mechanics station and notice that John Ntuli is still hanging around. He's being rather laggy. As I ride off ahead of John I realise I'm rolling out of town in 7th place which is very weird considering how pathetic I feel. I know I won't hold on to that place for long once the guys behind me saddle up but I enjoy the moment. I also know I'm not going to achieve a personal best as I'm already hours behind that ambition. My goal switches to getting a top 10 finish. Even though we are only 1/5th of the way into the race I do the math and know it's going to be a tough ask. I've got John, Thinus, Michael, James and Martin right behind me and they are all faster. I also know that Jack and Mickael aren't far back. It's not looking positive. Even though I'm currently in a skirmish with a dozen other competitors if I stumble there's an army stretching back over a hundred riders who won't hesitate to trample over me.
The route to Britstown takes us through the Rolfontein Nature Reserve just outside town. Once we pop out the other side we thread through the town of Petrusville after which it's flat and hopefully fast to Britstown which is only 180km away. There are 2 official water points along the way. WP3 is an 80km pedal with WP4 a further 46km. There's no point in fixating on the 180km to Britstown. If I'm going to eat this elephant it's going to be one bite at a time. My next mouthful is the 80km to WP3.
I've been riding through the Rolfontein Nature reserve for about 20 minutes and looking back I see a couple of bike lights. The Northern Cape nights are so clear you can see lights from a long way off. They could be 1km away or 10km. I've no idea.
I exit the reserve ahead of the other riders and make my way along the jeep track toward Petrusville. It's cooled off nicely and I'm able to ride comfortably and at a respectable pace. I make a note of how I feel so that when I'm struggling through the heat again tomorrow I can remind myself that darkness will bring relief. Earlier today I thought I'd never find my cycling legs. They're back now and I'm making good progress.
I'm through Petrusville and still ahead. As I turn off the tar on the outskirts of town I see riders just behind. First up is John followed shortly by Thinus and James. They go past so fast I get a reality check. I'm not speeding along. I up my pace to match Thinus and James. John is quickly overhauled and we scamper on for another 15 minutes before I come to my senses. The pace has me in the red. If I don't cool it I'm going to blow a head gasket or pick up an injury. I back off and watch their blinking red lights get away from me. John passes me and I'm now lying 10th.
American novelist Sarah Ban Breathnach may well have had ultra endurance cyclists in mind when she said "Always remember, it's simply not an adventure worth telling if there aren't any dragons." Dragons abound and oftentimes sneak up on you when you least expect. We are not quite 14 hours into the race and we've already been visited by the heat dragon. The next likely dragon is the one that goes by the nom de plume "sleep monsters". The heat dragon left me in tatters. I'm aware that I'm an easy target for his buddy. I retrieve the ziplock bag and munch the roll. I do a quick self assessment and am satisfied that the sleep dragon is not about to ambush me. But it's the one that can have you by the neck before you know what's happening. To be safe I dig out a mini energy drink that has a drop or ten of caffeine in it.
The kays tick over and I start counting down single digits to WP3. Laz who works with me is manning the water point with Braam Nel. For a fleeting moment it occurs to me that I can always pull the brakes on for the last time at the water point and get a lift home with Laz. Before the idea takes root I rip it from my head and toss it in my bad thoughts compost heap. The hours of solitude coupled with ongoing exhaustion and lack of sleep are a veritable breeding ground for negative thoughts. They are best weeded out at inception.
I see flashing red lights up ahead. They let me know I'm approaching the water point. They are affixed to the banners at the gate of the farmhouse where the water point is located. Laz and Braam are in attendance. I'm exhausted and its showing—Laz later tells me that he's never seen me looking so grumpy. I settle into the routine of filling my bottles—2 water and 2 with energy drink. The premixed energy drink is lemon flavoured and very weak. Laz digs out the dry mix and I add more. Bottles stowed on the bike my attention turns to coffee and food. Laz gets the coffee going while I suss out the food. I'm not in the mood for energy bars or gels and settle for a vetkoek. At least I think it's a vetkoek. I'm still not able to eat much. I'm almost too tired to chew.
I flop down into a chair and notice that Jean Biermans, Mike McDermott, John Ntuli and Chris van Zyl are also there. Soon we are joined by Martin. The tough conditions of the race are etched deep on faces illuminated by the dull glow of the lone patio light. Jean is the only one able to muster a smile.
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