Sunday 30 June 2024
Race to Rhodes ‘24 - Masakala to Vuvu
Saturday 29 June 2024
Race to Rhodes ‘24 - Two Springs to Masakala
The ride from Pietermaritzburg to Two Springs had taken me more than two hours longer than I had hoped—it had taken me just over 24 hours. That's what happens when you haven't trained for an event and you come into it with a hard head and a marshmallow body. 230 km with 6700 metres of vertical ascent is hard enough when you're in race shape. Dragging my floppy body over that distance was hard work.
Adding to my problems was the old pair of shoes I'd dragged out from the dark recesses of my cupboard. They were a pair of used a few RASA's ago. By the time I'd got to Allendale I knew why they had been put into retirement. The cleat plates were digging into my feet through paper thin inner soles. Removing the inner soles I added a dozen layers of duct tape in an attempt to give them more padding and ease the discomfort I had in my feet. By the time I got to Centocow I knew the damage had already been done—my feet were already bruised. The duct tape helped, but my feet ached.
The food on offer at Two Springs was more than adequate and I filled my belly. I also decided it would be a good place to charge my phone while I had a quick nap. I set an alarm for 45 minutes and lay on the carpet next to the phone as I was worried that I might not hear the alarm if I was further away. I woke up with 25 minutes remaining on the countdown timer. The 20 minute nap was sufficient to get me through to Masakala.
Race tip: I have long since stopped using time of day as an alarm setting as it's too easy to get the time wrong when you have a foggy head and numb fingers. I use a countdown timer, typically 90 mins which I preset. It takes a lot less cerebral horsepower to figure out. In this case I had set the countdown to 45 mins.
Normally I am very efficient at getting through support stations. Typically I'd only be in a support station for 15-20 minutes. In this race I was anything but efficient. I'd spent 40 minutes at Allendale and lingered for 45 minutes each at Centocow and Ntsikeni. Two Springs obviously agreed with me because even though I only had a 20 minute nap I was there for 2 hours.
I rolled out of Two Springs and had an enjoyable ride down to the Mzimvimvubu river where the route crosses into the Eastern Cape. After crossing the river I spent 20 minutes stomping up the climb that takes you into the the first villages of the area formerly known as the Transkei. Weaving through the various villages I turned off at the Lameka Primary School and headed into the wattle forests and along a route that would have me crossing the Little Mzimvubu river and heading to an area called Snakefield. Once at Snakefield there is a short stretch of district road before heading back onto single track to skirt around the village of Shenxa. What follows is 11km of hard riding that's tempered by the amazing untamed countryside.
The temperature had risen into the mid twenties and I found the going challenging. The 11km took me a pedestrian 1 hour 20 mins to cover. The next 14 relatively easy kilometres took me just as long as I was starting to nod off and my feet ached whether I was walking or cycling. I looked forward to getting to Masakala just so I could get off my feet. Just after 3pm, inside Masakala the first order of business wasn't food but rather to get my shoes off and find a bed.
Rather than charge off to the next support station I decided that I'd wait for my riding buddies to arrive and then I'd take my next action cue from them. As they were many hours back I set my alarm for 90 minutes and closed my eyes.
Thursday 27 June 2024
Race to Rhodes ‘24 - Pietermaritzburg to Two Springs
Lining up outside the Pietermaritzburg City Hall I was aware of the spasm in my lower back. I had hurt my back a few weeks earlier and had thought it had recovered. On the drive down the previous day the discomfort had returned.
6am rolled around and we ambled out of town. We were a group of 8 Race to Rhodes riders and Tim James who, having finished his up ride the day before, was turning around and heading back down the trail.
The bunch stuck together through Bizley and the sugarcane fields. Once on the Thornville tar road the lads got to business. It didn't take long for the others to get away. By the time we turned up into the plantations toward Minerva the only rider behind me was Tim on his single speed.
The pain in my lower back on the 14km climb up to the cellphone tower was agonising. Cresting the mountain and making my way down the switchbacks I scanned the roads below hoping to see other riders making their way into Byrne. There were none to be seen. That put me at least 6km adrift of the next slowest RTR rider in are start batch.
I didn't stop in at The Oaks in Byrne rather choosing to replenish my water supply at a village Jojo tank a few kilometres further on.
The short steep climbs before the drop into the Umkomaas valley were felt in my lower back. On the last climb I looked back and saw Axel and Guy. It was nice to know that I wasn't the lonely sweeper. They had stopped in at The Oaks. Guy, like me, was struggling with lower back pain. He didn't look comfortable. At least my discomfort eased once the road levelled out.
The ride down to the Umkomaas river was without incident and the recent clearing of some of the dense riverine bush meant I was across the river with nary a scratch—a far cry from previous experiences where blood sacrifices were demanded and taken by the river gods.
Once across the river the next task is to get up the Hela Hela Pass. It's 14km to the top rising 900m. While all of it can be ridden, there are a few sections that are best walked, particularly by race laden travellers. The dread of most riders is the onset of leg cramps. In 2 dozen trips up that pass I can count on one hand the number of times I haven't cramped. This time I had carried extra hydration and was determined to soft pedal as much as possible and walk a little more than usual. Once you start cramping you carry that forward for many hours afterwards which significantly impedes progress. Especially if you're intending on pushing through the first support station at Allendale.
Alas, it was not to be a cramp free ride. First one leg and then the other siezed up having me off the bike and walking every hill.
I limped into Allendale at 14h40 a full hour slower than I had hoped. The back spasms and generally lack of race fitness played a bigger role than the cramping as I usually cramp on the first day. The biggest surprise is that only Daniel and Carlo were ahead of me. They had already left. I knew Axel and Guy were behind me and I'd heard that Phillip had pulled up short at Byrne having not fully recovered from a recent bout of illness. Which left the question of, where were Pieter and Nic?"
Five minutes later Axel arrived sans Guy. Guy it seems, like me, had the double whammy of back spasms and legs cramps. Only his were much worse. He had already decided to hole up in Allendale overnight so had backed off to make a slower ride in.
Checking the tracking site (which is permitted in support stations) we were surprised to see that Pieter and Nic well well back. They eventually arrived and looked far from showroom condition. Nic had started the day with a long sleeved riding shirt. Arriving at Allendale he had on what looked like a wife-beater shirt with frayed edges at the shoulders. The sleeves of his shirt were completely gone. In their place his arms looked like someone had thrown a dozen angry cats at him. The scratches and blood evidence of a battle well fought. His presence at Allendale an indication that he might have won the battle in spite of his tattered and bloodied appearance.
Pieter popped through the door and it was apparent that he was the second member of the cat wrestling tag team. It seems that had messed up the navigation in the Umko valley and had dared to venture where no one should go. For 90 minutes they unnecessarily thrashed through unrelenting thorn bushes.
Pieter the cat wrestler
While Pieter and Nic licked their wounds I headed out with Centocow as my next objective. Axel followed soon afterwards and we joined up near Donnybrook and rode together to Centocow getting in shortly before 19h00. As expected Daniel and Carlo had already passed through. Axel had originally intended to stop at Centocow but feeling relatively fresh decided to move on to Ntsikeni with me. As we were readying ourselves to leave the cat wrestlers arrived. They too said they would be departing for Ntsikeni after a meal.
Axel and I rode out of Centocow and over the mountain to the Ngwangwane river. Crossing the river we saw lights in the forest. It was Carlo. Carlo had punctured earlier and had spent a frustrating hour wrestling with his tyre before being able to patch it sufficiently to keep moving. The three of us moved on together, eventually arriving at the lodge in Ntsikeni at 01h30.
I had messaged to race office earlier to let them know that I'd push on to Two Springs if I managed to get to Ntsikeni by 11pm. My travel time to Ntsikeni had slipped by a large margin but my resolve was intact. Even so, it took me almost an hour to get out the door. I saw the lights of the cat wrestlers approaching over the wetland so, just for fun I doused my bike lights and rode down the jeep track away from the lodge under the light of the full moon. It was 02h25.
The navigation went off without a hitch and I rolled into Two Spring at 06h10 - the perfect time for breakfast.
Tuesday 25 June 2024
Race to Rhodes ‘24 - Preamble
The corrugations send ripples through my aching muscles as I roll out of Rhodes. The roadside grass, adorned with predawn frost, sparkles like jewels in the glare of my lights. Ahead, I see two pools of light cast by riders inching their way up the switchbacks on their journey to Chesneywold. The first glimmer of daylight faintly outlines the mountains in the eastern sky. It's -3°C. Inside the Defender, the seat warmer eases the spasms in my back, and the cabin is a comfortable 22°C. My thoughts drift less to my drive home and more to the journey from Pietermaritzburg to Rhodes over the previous few days.
Commitments and complications on the home front made the prospect of hitting the trail for any of the winter '24 events a remote possibility. As the entry cutoff date drew close, I contacted the race office to ask if a late entry was possible if the opportunity arose. They said I could enter late, but it would mean no resupply tubs. Having done a couple of FC events without tubs, that wasn't an issue.
As June approached and the window of opportunity narrowed, I gave up on the idea of racing and lost the motivation to get on my bike. After the race started, like hundreds of others, I took up duty as a dot watcher, checking in regularly to see how the race was unfolding. Watching riders lay down tyre tracks over terrain I've spent the last 18 years familiarising myself with led to a rise of FOMO. Still, the steps required for me to clear my schedule hadn't coalesced.
Two days before the start of the last batch of the Race to Rhodes, I took steps to resolve a roadblock issue, which I managed to clear by lunchtime. That afternoon, I made two phone calls. The first to the race office to check if I could ride, and the second to arrange a lift with Pieter van der Westhuizen, who was leaving for the race the next morning.
Next, I got my bike up on the stand at work for an express service. Once home, I stayed up until midnight rummaging through my cupboards, tossing race kit into a bag. Riding shoes were a challenge since I had trashed a pair on The Karoo Meander the month before, leaving me with only a pair of lightweight MTB shoes suitable for riding around the Cradle. In the dark recess of my cupboard, I found a pair of well-used Shimano shoes from a previous Race Across South Africa. They showed signs of wear, but the soles were mostly intact, and they had usable laces and cleats. Into the bag they went.
Fortunately, Pieter had planned a late departure, which allowed me a quick trip to the shops to buy the last bits and pieces I needed.
At midday, we hit the road, heading for the Sleeping Bao in Pietermaritzburg.