As D. wasn't doing the bike race because of her illness I became a bit reluctant and decided to hire a car and do some exploring out of town instead. However no cars were available for hire .... because 32,000 people were in town to do a bike race.
Mike, from the bike club, offered to give me a lift in to town to register for the race Thursday morning at registration some of the buzz of the event started to rub off on me. There were hundreds of people of all nationalities, shapes and sizes registering and a huge exhibition of cycling equipment added to the “big event” feel. Mike's enthusiasm about the event was also contagious. He had been training for months, had done one of the seeding events and had been practising bits of the route ready for the big day. On the way back he deliberately drove along the route and showed me the hills and the dangerous descent from Boyes Drive down to Kalk Bay.
Back at the house was the bike that D. had managed to borrow from her friend Bjorn, - the lightest sleekest bike I had ever ridden, a proper racing bike.
Although it was a bit close to the event on the Sunday I decided that I ought to give my body a warning about cycling in extreme heat and to let my bum have a slight chance get used to a hard narrow racing saddle.
Minutes aftger setting off down the road the first problem became apparent. There was one gear lever on each side ehich changed the gears one way but no way I could see to change the gears the other way. After stopping and checking the bike and trying everything I flagged down a group of cyclists going the other way.
With brisk German effieiency it was revealed that the brake lever moves sideways and that changes the gears the other way!! Incredible!! It would never have crossed my mind that a brake lever moved any other way than in and out. Mein gut Samaritan then checked over my bike, adjusted the quick release tension on the front wheel, pointed out that my front brake had the release open and suggested I eased off the power when changing down a gear! Did he think I was an idiot? Mmhh. I guess if you flag someone down to ask how to change gear that goes without saying.
An hour later my body was giving signs that it was not at all adjusted to the heat and man and bike in tune ..... I had a puncture. And then another puncture half way back and I started to assume that there must be something I wasn't doing right. A visit to the bike shop in Fish Hoek resulted in the purchase of a new rear tyre and when they realised I had only pumped to the tyres up to the 40psi that I use on my mountain bike. They told me that was less than half the pressure needed. I guress this was the moment for them to take me for an idiot and it was a relief they didn't feel the need to give any other advivce.
Sunday, the day of the race, I woke before the alarm even though it was set for 5.30 and at five past six was cycling down the road in the thick darkness and silence in order to get the 6.25 train from Gllen Cairn.
Cruising gently down the hill a familiar gentle whooshing noise and the dark silhouette of a mountain bike swished past followed by another dozen in singles and small groups. Coming up to the main road more cyclists heading from the Fish Hoek direction. The pre-dawn lightening of the horizon over the mountains on the other side of False Bay reminiscent of an Alpine start before some scary climb. The impression of silent intense figures converging like the Close Encounters film also evokes memories of going with Bryn to Winter evening football games at Portsmouth, - and I began to have a really good anticipation about the day!!
Luckily the train was nearly empty and I leaned my bike against the side of the carriage and sat down. Within 5 stops all the entrances of the carriage were completely blocked by bikes and people trying to get to work were being turned away. I wondered how we would get out of the carriage if the train caught fire. The answer so obvious it was best not to think about it.
At the main station I followed the others to a large plaza full of cyclists queing in bays and even more who had arrived early and were waiting for their turn. I asked a volunteer how to get to EE bay (the starting group for international entrants). She said I was too late and ushered me into bay HH with the tandems. If I had realised that Matt Damon was in group EE then I might have been more insistent about finding the right group but it was very pleasant in the HH group. I think tandem riders must be more orieted to being social than competitive and it was a very nice atmosphere with a surprising number of wigs, fancy dress and decorated bikes!
We were ushered out of the bay and lined up on the main road. Finally the count down and Go! It was already windy and as I took my first tentative push on the pedal there was a huge gust of wind and I had to put my foot down to balance myself. Around me a scene of complete devastation. Tandems seem to catch the wind more (and besides I had been eating a lot of pies). Every tandem around me had been blown to the ground along with many of their riders. Tentatively I picked my way around the chaos between further gusts. Reaching an archway the wind was so strong that I had to dismount and push the bike through. It was a relief finally to get on with the familiar feeling of cycling up a steep hill (except that it was a slight hill with a steep wind).
The route of the race is really interesting with spectactular mountain and coastal views, with blue seas lightening to turquoise where they touched sandy beaches. And always the fabulous scenery of the Cape mountains. The number of other comptetitors is a source of constant interest, overtaking and being overtaken adding to the drama.
From Kalk Bay I seemed to find my cycling legs and from here to Smitts Winkel was a steady relentless push uphill and against the wind. Tucking close behind an individual or smal group of cyclists made it much easier and I began to feel like a bit of leech, (but carried on in any event). The relief of reaching Smitts Winkel and changing direction and heading back North with the wind was immense. Half way reached and nearly 15 kilometers of downhill /flat relaxed and pleasant cycling. Nostalgia passing the Garden Centre where I had stayed in a cottage on my previous trip and passing Scarborough and other familiar beaches.
I was passing a lot more people than were passing me and started to feel a bit of confidence growing. Running over a cat's eye at speed punctured the rear tyre which deflated as fast as my confidence. The tyre was changed pretty quickly but then the valve snapped off as I the pump was removed. The second innertube was replaced with more care but 10 minutes had been lost.
After a savage sand blasting when the route passed close to a beach it was a pleasure to finally get to seeChapmans Peak Drive. (This had also been closed on my previous holiday). The wind was a real problem, stopping us in our tracks on some of the uphill sections and making it difficult to get going again up the hill. On the descent, gusts blew people off their bikes and one person was being carried into an ambulance.
Still the views were dramatic and enjoyable none the less. And although increasingly tired I began to get a sense that I was going to finish and that my pace had been judged and my time was going to be as good as it could be allowing for age, flab and lack of fitness.
Feeling so tired it was difficult to really appreciate the changing beaches and views of Hout Bay, Green Point and on towards Cape Town. Lions Peak and the cable car corner of Table Mountain got steadily closer and then were passed. Finally the finish, a medallion pushed in my hand and a very slow ride back to the station. During the 45 minute wait for the next train I fell asleep and thank goodness the girl next to me woke me up when it arrived!
In the train I was woken at Fish Hoek to be asked to move my bicycle just in time so that I was ready to get off two stops later at Glen Cairn..
A double expresso and apple crumble at the deli at the Souther Right gave just enough energy to face getting up the hill to the house and a very early night!!
The sense of achievement was dented a couple of days later when I discovered that Bjorn, whose spare bike I had used, had done the route in a little over 3 hours, - nearly 2 hours quicker than me! It seemed almost impossible to me but apparently a few 1000 manage times of this order.
This hasn't stopped me already starting to wonder if I might be able to come back next year and have another go!!
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