Sunday 3 April 2022

The Accidental Single Speeder - Race to Cradock Part 2

It was just before 5am when I joined the other 9 riders in the gloom outside the Rhodes Hotel. Two thoughts, actually three, stomped around inside my head. What was the road surface going to be like? Which climbs would be definite walks? What's the new section that detours around the Bokspruit river valley like?

I had yet to make peace with a rigid fork and was convinced that every rough section on the road was going to dislodge me from the bike. To be fair, even with a suspension fork I'm extremely cautious of unleashing my bike down a road that is anything but perfectly smooth. Often I'm the guy who gets to the top of a climb at the head of the bunch and then ends up trailing the group on the downslope.

I'm envious of my riding pals who let rip every time the gradient points down. However I'm not envious of their scars or the plates and pins that hold their bodies together when unfettered joy gives way to grunts and groans. I'll acknowledge that I let the fear of falling off exaggerate the actual risk.

I traced the route out in my mind. The big climb soon after leaving Rhodes is broken into 3 steep sections that I could expect to walk. The new section after passing the Bokspruit turnoff up to the radio masts would be a certain walk. After that it’d be a fast section down to the steel bridges that cross the Bell and Kraai rivers. A left turn toward Elliot would have me on a road if never travelled. Once rejoining the normal route there were at least 2 steep sections I'd have to walk before the Bottlenek turnoff. Then there was Bottlenek itself… there was going to be ample opportunity to walk.

Had I chosen the right gear ratio? I didn't know. I had a 32 chainring and the sprocket that was in the spares box was a 16. My choice of ratio was as simple as that. It's what I had and it would have to do.

How was that going to translate into travel time? I figured I could add an hour between each support station. I was hoping that I could stay in touch with the other riders who were in 2 distinct camps - those looking to chill day by day and a few who were looking to go as hard as they could. Ingrid Avidon and Peter Roux, the latter on a fast looking gravel bike, would be my progress markers. If I could stay in touch with them then I'd have a chance of finishing within the 58 hour time the FCSF supports had deemed a suitable target time for me. I thought that was a fair target and hoped that I could go under that. I'd gone under 48 hours on 2 previous occasions. By adding the additional 1 hour per support station to those 48 hours I was hoping to cover the distance in 54 hours. It was a big ask particularly as the added time on the trail would lead to added sleep deprivation which would have to be worked in somewhere along the way.

"It's 5am so you better get on your way," came Chris's voice out of the dark. I pressed the pedals and started heading down a familiar road on my unfamiliar rig.

2 comments:

Philip Erasmus said...

I can not understand what enjoyment there is in "racing" the Freedom Trail! It probably is my age, but there are so much beauty out there that is surely missed if you race!

Gonzo said...

Beauty does not only exist in sunlight, nor in rest