Llewellyn Lloyd-Reblex Photography
Once I had sorted out my bottles and had something to eat, I was ready to bank some sleep. It would be the first since I had started 35 hours before. I removed my shoes and soon after setting a count down alarm for 60 minutes I was sound asleep.
Waking at midday I heard Roger chatting to the buffalo herders in the adjacent room. He had recently arrived and didn't have time to nap. He said he was heading down to the gate as soon as he had something to eat and I should wake him if he was asleep when it was time to go. I asked how he was feeling. He said he was fine. One look at him suggested he was exaggerating. I was exhausted but at least I'd been able to snatch some zzzz's.
Roger left for the gate and I followed 5 minutes Iater. Arriving at the gate I saw Roger propping his bike against a fence. I asked Llewellyn, who was our anti-buffalo chaperone, how long Roger had been there. He had just arrived. That didn't bode well. I felt pathetic on my 20 minute pedal to the gate and still made up 5 minutes on Roger.
Paperwork complete and the sleeping giant awoken we got on our way. We would have Llewellyn in his Suzuki Jimmy for company over the next 50km to where we'd cross the final cattle grid that supposedly marks the extent of the marauding bovines.
The first climb out of Cambria is tough. As in 650 metres of ascent in 10km tough. It can be ridden, even on tired legs but Roger and I had been pushing hard all the way from Cradock. As we hit the first climb Roger got stuck in. He was trying hard but realised walking might be the better option when I overtook him while pushing my bike.
When you're tired and approaching the limit of your ability to stay awake there is a disconnect between your head and your legs. It's like trying to drive a car with a slipping clutch—the engine makes all the right noises but it doesn't result in meaningful wheel traction and forward speed.
Physical exhaustion and mental fatigue are different. You can be physically capable of pedalling but when sleep deprived it becomes a battle of will over need to sleep. Roger was on the brink.
I was no match for him on the descents but he was getting slower on the climbs. 4 hours into our vehicle accompanied traverse through the Reserve I could see that the battle was swaying in sleep's favour.
We finally crossed the cattle grid that signalled the end of the escorted section at 17:30. Another 10km would have us clear of the Reserve. I pushed ahead over the worst section of road I had encountered the entire trip and reached the gate well ahead of Roger. I asked Llewellyn where Roger was. He said he'd go back and see.
The road out of the reserve was it's normal corrugated self. I constantly switched sides looking for a decent line. It was after 18:00 and I still had 17 or 18km to get to Damsedrif and then on to Willowmore a further 82km. It seemed like I wasn't going to get in on time. Rounding a corner the road surface improved dramatically. I rolled along comfortably until just before Damsedrif where the smooth road gave way to corrugations. Not nice to ride on but still better than the last two times I'd been on this road.
I rolled into Damsedrif at 19:10 which was 20 minutes faster than I'd hoped for when leaving the reserve.
It's always great to see Runé and Hestelle van Rensburg. They've seen me at my worst and have nourished and succoured me at those times. Sitting around the kitchen table We ate and caught up with each other's news. A quick look at the tracking site showed that Roger had gone to ground about 10km short of the support station. There was no waiting for him. I needed to move on.
I turned to Hestelle and said, "Hestelle, now is the time that you lie to me by saying the road all the way to Willowmore is in great shape."
"It's as smooth as a highway," came the reply.
The section of road immediately after Damsedrif has broken many a spirit over the years including mine a couple of times. I've suffered over endless kilometres of edge to edge corrugations that suck you dry of any desire to keep pedalling.
"Actually Mike, it's a lot better than the last time you were here," she added.
As I sat finishing a cup of tea I started nodding off. Skrik waker I think it's called in Afrikaans - startle wake or something like that. It wasn't a good sign. I dread the ride out of the Baviaanskloof especially the first 50km. It's hard but pleasant enough riding but I've always done it when tired resulting in countless power naps and wasted time.
Hestelle suggested I have a sleep before pushing on but if I wanted to get in before 2AM I couldn't. I needed to get back out on the road. I asked Runé how long the ride to the finish would take. He said most people take 7 hours. It was 19:30. Another 7 hours would get me there at 02:30... that was 30 minutes later than my target.
There was the risk that I would fall asleep soon after getting back on the bike but I figured even if I fell off the bike 5km up the road I had 5km less to do once I woke up.
Hestelle handed me some toasted sandwiches which I stuffed in my shirt pocket and at 19:40 I was out the door.
I set myself an initial target of 5km. This elephant was going to be eaten one nibble at a time. To stave off the sleep monsters I rode hard. I figured the burn in my legs would keep me focussed. Soon 5km became 10km and then 15km. I was in a good rhythm and before long I had passed the Makkedaat Caves and was closing in on the Nuwekloof Pass. The pass is majestic. The snaking road is tightly enclosed on either side by vertical rock faces that at night resembled cathedral spires reaching skyward. I got off my bike halfway through and walked for a few minutes while eating the toasted sandwiches. The silence engulfed me. The thin strip of night sky above cropped by the soaring cliffs.
I continued on past the Uniondale intersection which meant I had 32km to finish. It wasn't yet 23:00 so unless something went horribly wrong I'd be in before my 02:00 goal. A few kilometres later I started to nod off. I stopped and had a 10 minute power nap before pressing on to Willowmore. It was 00:49 when I pulled up outside The Willows Hotel.
The usual well done's and congratulatory words were offered and accepted before we turned our attention to Roger. He was still in Damsedrif. Unless he was back on his bike in the next few minutes he wasn't going to finish before 06:00 to achieve his goal of finishing in under 48 hours.
I last checked on him when I got into bed. He had left it too late. He arrived in Willowmore at 08:45. In spite of all the hard work and suffering he had endured the sleep monsters had won that skirmish.
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