The Blanket Saga

Yskoud innie karooo

2010-07-15T23:06:00.000-07:00

The next engagement is a little bit crazy, but I'm only a spectator so not too much to worry about there.

Vic (the chick) has a screw loose and is doing the inaugral Speedo ice swim in Fraserberg. 600m, no wetsuit and the dam is 4'C. Real lunatic fringe, but lewis pugh seems to have made it a bit more mainstream. Expecting some real cheer from the locals, we will probably start braaing at 8am, just to keep warm.

Nicely on my way there, I've stopped in for two days at my old roomie's folks farm. Because it used to be a post office and rewatering station when people went to George by horse you can find Seekoegat on most maps south of beaufort west. Wonderful hospitality as always and such a lekker plek om te kom kuier.

Had plans of doing some plaas riding, but yesterday was miserable. Rained all day and we had three kudus to chop up anyway.

Snowed overnight on the swartberge and hit minus seven. So maybe round noon I'll go for some skaap chasing. Then its off to the metropolis of Fraserberg via the bustling city of Leeu-Gamka.
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Coast2karoo

2010-07-14T06:52:00.000-07:00

Well I've taken a bike rest day, and am shifting focus inland. There be some farms to explore and sheep to dodge.
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Home and dry

2010-07-13T06:59:00.000-07:00

Well at the lookout deck, which isn't quite home yet, nor is it dry now that the beach is totally gone!

Another funfilled day with some unexpected surprises.more to come later
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Mini fail times two

2010-07-13T05:33:00.000-07:00

So I went east.went through a rad valley, almost canadian with steep cliffs and pines the whole way.

But the R339 sucked with all the traffic.

So I tried an alternate route through uplands(off my maps now, so googling directions for guesswork).ended up being a dead end-the farmer at the end was cool, but said he'd prefer I didn't try go down the bitou river cliffs.

Back to tar. At least I can see home, and the beer at lookout
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Lunch 2

2010-07-13T02:21:00.000-07:00

Sitting at diepwalle station, waiting on a cheeseburger and chips from the community restaurant. Awesome sunshine and looking out over the forests to the sea, contemplating the afternoon routes.

So far I've basically done the first half of the knysna mtb long route.two monster climbs that I walked.on race day I'd be done by now, but been stopping for lots of views and pics. And picking up energy sachets.;-( The backpack slows me down too.I asked very nicely if I could go around gouna, but quite glad they said no-it looked rather hectic to say the least chasing up the knysna river gorge.

I can either do the famous petrus se brand and then harkerville red route, followed by some guesswork to plett to avoid the N2. Or go north and along the R339 and pop out in the bitou valley.

Plan a has some lekker singletrack,but I've done it all before.mmm, there's my cheeseburger.time to munch and decide
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Top of the hill

2010-07-12T23:13:00.000-07:00

At simola looking back on knysna.bit of a late start(merits of staying at a vibing backpackers??) but still pretty chilly. Frost last night.

Time to go down down down to gouna
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Day 1.....of 2

2010-07-12T13:52:00.000-07:00

Early start after a late world cup final. Pity robben chose the wrong time to not fall over for once,that's all I've got to say.

We were on the road by 4 and I found myself alone at the garden route mall waiting for the light(only a dinky headlamp in the bag).

My plan was to do the 'seven passes' old route from george to knysna, with as much legal forestry detours thrown in.
Thing is I didn't even know where to go, as I was starting 'off my maps' and hoping to find signs to saasveld college. When I eventually stopped procrastinating the cold away I found it so damn easily and it was all tar.infact I got worried that the whole route was tarred and my idea was a joke. took me two passes to hit dirt near wilderness heights turn off. The bonus was that the weather circus got the morning showers wrong and it was clear blue sky with snowcapped peaks to the north.

I got to woodville trading store and had a great chat with the engaging owner. My energy efficiency advice on his store and home were compensated with a slice of chocolate cake and a squeegy bottle(my water bottle was near mossel bay by now).

Then it was up the hill to bergplaas forest station to see if I could explore their forests. Turns out its all good and open for just ten bucks,but they just don't advertise it. My other idea was to ride from louvain in the north through the ou voortrekker pass to here, looked much easier on the map. I had a good effort trying to convince a forester that pine trees help cause the area's water shortage. Dead end since they are the largest 'provider' of water in the community.

Surprisingly the tracks on the maps were about 95% accurate which makes forestry navigation doable. The pockets of indigenous forest normally coincided with the really steep bits, and criss crossed the outeniqua trail now and then.

I ended up a little bit adventurous and bombed down a huge valley only to find the road flooded.I half backtracked before canning that idea and getting stubborn. hikeabike of note ensued, with me moving very quickly to avoid detection.

I heard a cat in a tree. Purring away. It was the sillhouette of a loerie, who knew they sounded like that?!I'd like to back it up with proof, but the blackberry doesn't come with a zoom lens.

Now having a lot of fun, but well behind schedule I shifted it down the hill to the forestry village of karatara. Enuff said earlier.

Karatara pass was short but some sweet sweeping turns. Homtini pass a bit later was the deal maker. Plunged down without scrubbing the brakes much.it was a long walk out and I eventually got on top and it was a long gradual fall to phantom pass, the final one. The odd thing is the route is punctuated by tar at its extremities, no doubt from the commuters who escape the rat race, but not as far as hitting the dirt. There are a lot of quirky houses round here, there must be some real characters lurking in these woods.

Phantom pass was another great descent with some blind fast corners. I managed to pull over the knysna bridge in fading light, and hit paydirt at backpackers #2. Recommended island vibe was full, so lake superior it was. No hot shower, but the huge braai made up for it. Great to shoot the sh1t with all the foreign travcellers, but such a pity the locals running the show are so clueless about local issues. Oh the mistruths spread around the globe now.

Tomorrow might be a later start.gonna try old cape road up to simola and then gouna forest to diepwalle for lunch. Then prince alfred pass till the R339 turnoff takes me to plett where my car is chilling.
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Late lunch

2010-07-12T05:06:00.000-07:00

Of course I bit off more than was chewable. Took the 7passes route till woodville(what a name for a forestry station). Then hit bergplaas and got a R10 permit to hit their forests. Pointed the bike east and shot.

It was awesome.

Some nice overlaps with outeniqua trail(now on to do list) with amazing indigenous forest. Had to do a semi-legal hike a bike as one road was flooded,didn't fok around with the river crossing.

Popped out at a dorpie called Karatara,appears to be the previous regime's solution to the 'poor white problem'. Lunch is yummy fresh rolls,john west spicy packed tuna and double cheese doritos. Washed down with limited edition fanta kiwi apple and lemon. Champion meal.

Did 3passes before my dirtscursion, and only skipped on, so three more to go.

Enjoy!
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On the road

2010-07-11T21:36:00.000-07:00

A flippen early start, as the lift was leaving at 4. Meant I had to wait for first light at george mall for about 30minutes.

In the darkness managed to forget waterbottle. Didn't realise that the road to saasveld college has nothing on it, so no bp express for anything till hoekwil I guess.

Taking the 7passes route to knysna,if its tarred and siggnposted the whole way I'll have to find some detours.

First little valley brought me to shivereens at the bottom and reminded me I've done a half marathon on the other side. Oh well!

Here you can see my bike. So far so good.
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Brrrrrrr

2010-07-11T18:12:00.000-07:00

Weather report is partly miserable and freezing. With late showers. Attached you can see the snow covered outeniquas. Pic is from near the compass on attached map. Not my main map(I do have the 1:50 000) but is a good reference.
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The ruff plan

2010-07-11T03:12:00.000-07:00

After a few weeks of following people riding at different speeds from maritzburg to diemersfontein, I got the urge of the trail tugging at me. I'm doing mba this year, and even though they work us pretty hard, we get a bit of free time now and then. That time is now.

Finding myself in Knysna(more on that later) and needing to be in Fraserberg next weekend(more on that later) I figured some garden route and karoo tripping was in order.

I haven't got a full plan yet, but am seeking out local knowledge first. I threw everything together in about 20minutes but its a little scary how much technical gear I own now.

Being a student and unemployed(12months and counting!) I've toned down the bike arsenal-by adding another bike. I've mothballed the santa cruz for the year and built up a singlespeed, mostly from bits and pieces around. The frame is a Kona Colin Mcrae limited edition, and I kinda reposessed it from a london tube station(more on that later).

Needed to get rid of a drivetrain squeak,and since my time and expertise were running low I took it to my closest bike store. John O'Connor cycles in Mouille Point. Yes I know, a bike store on the golden mile! Got to be the fanciest location(next door to peperneros), but they got it all together chop chop and its now the shiniest bike I've ever had.

On the way I popped into the department of land surveys(see pics) its such a great place and has a cool little museum section of olde equipment. I have all the maps I need, but forestry sections change their roads. A lot!

Still got a few options to play with, but we're looking at 2days, and most likely wilderness to plett, all on back roads and through the rest with a map and a compass.I have my gps; but without maps or tracks on it, its more of a recording than a navigational device.

The weather is not looking very good for monday, so waterproofing is going to be a chief concern. Otherwise the main issue is getting logistics down, but with and a to a to b route I think I'm done.
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Some outback riding

2010-07-06T05:17:00.000-07:00

With 6 months of hard mba graft and not much riding, it's time to go explore. Looking at doing 2 or 3 days in knysna/george area. And then some sheep herding in the moordenaarskaroo.

Going with the singlespeed on this trip, time to teach it some manners!

Current plan looks to be george 2 plett,with a stop somewhere most likely knysna. Anyone got some info from epic days of open trails?

Will of course update from here.
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Day 6 - Bringing it home

2010-01-12T13:48:00.000-08:00

Well we slept inside for once, even if it was a stationary bus. The perfect timing was that the wind had howled the whole night, and hadn't stopped when the son rose. We had our last breakfast and got an escort through the forest as Kumie and Vera were going fishing(and had a dog to collect).

Hard going into the wind on rough roads

Leaving the bluegum forest we got the full realisation of the wind we had to ride into. The road was a terrible loose shale too. So the going was slow. I think there might even have been looks of lets call for the lift going round the group. We had ridden on the dam shore, and eventually pulled off onto a firebreak. A rough firedbreak at that. Things went from bad to worse to fynbos. The map was a sea of white nothing, but my gps had a track going south through it. Riding became impossible as we pushed through head high fynbos. Trying to find the way through ended up with four long faces and me assuring them it was passable. A compromise was reached with the group sitting and me heading on foot to see what lay over the slight ridge ahead of us. I'd been told the route was simple, it was proving nothing like it.

The fynbos slog

I emerged to a 2.4m gamefence, which was beautifully manicured up to the mountain and down to the road. Crossing it was impossible, as the top third was unsupported and the wire threads were taut. On returning, I found what was left of the firebreak, just sparser fynbos. I gave a few options to the crowd, the main being that just 20minutes through the bundu was our way over a fence. Reluctantly they followed, mutiny imminent. We decided to try follow up the mountain and maybe get away over as the fence became less uniform. A solid post arrived soon enough and I scaled it easily enough, taking the bikes one by one.

don't try this at home

Now that we were definitely looking at a delicate situation, I called David Waddilove(Freedom Challenge founder) to discuss the property and route. Luckily he knew exactly where we were, and gave us the go ahead and the manager's contacts. In passing he told us to watch out for buffalo!

Phoning the boss
We got the group over easy enough, but were very cautious in negotiating blind rises and corners. A small herd of eland stayed ahead of us for the next hour, and we kept our height before running down past the magnificent homestead. Somewhere along the way the wind died to nothing.

The view ahead of the fence

From then on we went out of the Elandsberg property onto provincial roads, and kept an eye up on Groenberg, the conical mountain that looks down on Wellington. We would be passing this on the saddle that seperates it from the aplty named Limietberg range. No doubt a little bored by plugging away on the wide roads we found a shady spot at a farm gate for some brunch. By now we were one meal short of home, so all the leftovers were getting decimated. Tuna sachets that had travelled 500km were demolished in no time.

The riding got a bit more interesting when we turned off through the Rooshoek property. It's a mix of soft sand and gum forest but totally quiet. We found a great stream to refill in the stifling heat before hitting the big climb of the day, the saddle we'd seen from afar. The pecking order had been long established with Damon and Kathy up front and us other three keeping company in the rear.

We emerged to the crest with the Wellington valley below us. To get there it was all downhill. The oakdale equestrian estate was rather special, those horses get some proper TLC. The route took us down to the trailhead of the Welvanpas network. Being a hot day, I demanded we stop in at the cafe and took advantage of the koeksister and coke combo deal. By now we were in a built up area dn flitted between farm tracks and town roads. Finally coming through Wellington itself we turned past the massive NG Kerk and took the final turn to Diemersfontein.

We checked in at security and found our way to a nice shady tree to unwind and finish the rest of the food stocks. What more could we do to pass the time as our lifts arrived than hit the winetasting?

Big thanks go to Dirk and the venture bus, as well as the Smyley bunch for getting us all home. We did consider just bedding down in paarl and riding on into monday!

Day 5 - Singletrack, Shoppping and Swelter

2009-12-28T13:11:00.000-08:00

A constant lie on the trip that yesterday was the hard day and today was the easy one. It took 5 rounds of this charade before my game was up, but luckily I got to fool the gang with two things. Muesli with fresh(ok, long life) milk, and the promise of the 's' word. Nope; not sleep, soccer or Steers, but singletrack – the holy grail of mountain biking. Sure Rob had found a flowing section with infinite curves and banked corners the day before, but this was the real deal, Eselfontein.

First we had to get there, and our route was a yellow highlighter on the 1:50 000 map with some secret paths. We got going at first light and could see our break in the ridge to head to. Much stuffing around later and we finally took the easy obvious route there. On the way Damon did his Tumbleweed nickname some justice and wiped crossing a wet granite river rock slab. His bruised ribs turned out later in an x-ray to be fractured, but he was more worried about the crack in the phone(and the bike, 'Simone' was fine). Ceres is a special valley, sure it's got lots of juice factories, but where fruit farm meets mountain foothills it's quite something. Luckily this is the path we trod. Anyone ever heard of Lakenvlei dam? Didn't think so, but it is a large and dramatic sluice that holds a river back from it's path through the Hex River Mountains. We got to descend towards it and the smiles were on with some rocky jeep track and a compulsory bunny hop over a bunny shaped rock that came round a corner with all surviving.
Lakenvlei dam

A few debates about how to cross the valley aiming for the trees on the other side saw us holding a high line through the crops and coming to a slight fynbos portage. The farmer said it was cool, the wekkers thought we were crazy. On the other side the horizon revealed more of the same, another picturesque valley. We skirted along the treeline and followed the furrow to Hoogland packing sheds. Skipping past a few dams we finally got to the escaprment of sorts that looks down onto Ceres town itself, 20km in the distance. With Legend now chomping at the bit to get onto the trails we took some wrong turns but finally got onto a marked course, even if the arrows were backwards.

Deon Malherbe has been running mtb events on Eselfontein farm since 1992(he says), and has arguably the finest trails in the greater cape area. He builds them with a motorcross bike and they are spectacular to say the least. But don't just listen to me, go find more here www.eselfontein.co.za.

Freeze frame of awesome downhill

We had our trails chick leading the charge down, taking all the pretty lines and big drops. She inspected the big !Danger! drop, and rode it, full bag and all. The boys put their egos in their packs and walked. Squealing at the rear was Damon doing his best to avoid every rock and bump. Much swearing ensued, so much so that he skipped the dark forest section and waited for us under a tree at the farm gate.
Looking down to esels

If this trail route is adopted, you can guarantee this section will be a highlight.

With time ticking towards noon and still not near halfway we chose the boring route into town. What an experience, seeing a saturday morning Ceres with the usual boland mayhem. Sneakily the Spar is past all of this, and we did the big shop for the trip. Stocked up and all the cravings catered(fried chicken and soft serve from the Steers) we found a shady tree by the golf course to eat enough food so we could fit it all in.

Despite all the good its done for our sport, I'm not the biggest fan of the Cape Epic. I think it's overpriced and overhyped, but my viewpoint on mountain biking is biased since shifting from the XC routine of chasing a rear wheel up a hill and racing down the otherside. I prefer to stop at the peak and take in the view, pull out a camera and appreciate where my bike has brought me. Another bugbear is that while the Freedom Challenge has established 2300km of accessible route from KZN to Cape Town on one volunteer's passion, the Epic has not (to my knowledge)opened a single kilometer of trail for Joe Biker and me. Luckily I won't be able to say this for long.

There is but one way into Ceres from the Cape Town side, the Mitchell's Pass. It winds alongside the Breede, and its disused railtrack reminds of times gone by before major trucking. Since Epic 2010 spends 3 days in Ceres, the railtrack is to be cleared and swept. It'll be 15km of gradual rise mtbing with sweeping views. This helps our route greatly, but we chose to avoid the gadoonk gadoonk of the rickety rails till that time, so took the tar pass instead.

The approach into Wolsely had some townships skirting, and saturday afternoon might not be the best time to do it, judging by the sideways sloping pedestrians. Pulling into Demars fietswinkel to get our R10 trail permits for the Kluitjieskraal section, we had a fat chat with the tannie in the shade. She warned us of the bobbejane and tiere(baboons and tigers, later corrected to leopards).

Being another stinky hot day, the welcome relief of the shady pine forest was very needed. The intention was to actually ride up the pass to the plateau and descend down into waterval nature reserve via the Suurvlak plantation. It's a bit of a roundabout loop but spectacular. This is not really feasible with the proposed accomodation stops as this day would end up being way too long and tough. With this in mind(this is a test ride, remember) we skirted the base and took the red route split. It still climbs a bit up the foothills, and there was some moaning about this from the peleton.

Coming into the CapeNature section, we had our mind on the Nuwekloof pass option. We'd had a quick peek on the train trip in, and had two options. Scout the derelict old pass, which roughly follows the rail line. The new pass was built in 1965 and is probably 5km further(and on busy tar, which is naturally to be avoided at all costs!). The two are split by the Klein Berg River, share a thought for these water drops who end up in Veldrif. Just an hour earlier the ones we saw travel all the way to Witsands, 400km away.

The 'problem' with the old pass
With some casual discussion with Jan from opposite the Tulbagweg stasie and much peering over locked doors it appears the old pass is not accessible. By jumping some tracks and under a fence the much confirmed bridge is indeed no longer and a more creative way will have to be found through. Reluctantly we gave up and followed the tar, which gave us a solidly windy passage through the kloof.
The team heading up the path to Silwerfontein with a blustery voelvlei behind
(Being a sailor) I've spent many a weekend at Voelvlei, the wind blows there nonstop. From the moment we arrived till 18hours later and we were 10km away, it didn't stop. What's worse is that we probably could have sneaked a shortcut along the inlet furrow instead of doing the two sides of the triangle I had tracked. We did get to ride along one of the two damwalls, it's a massive body of water and is filled by the diverted Klein Berg, not having a natural river through it. It was a real grind into the block headwind, and quite a relief to pull up to the Silwerfontein farmhouse. It's a tastefully constructed Cape dutch building but only 16 years old, the yellowwood inside also a reminder of times gone by. We got all arrangements sorted with Kumie the organiser (and some cold cold water) and headed into the bluegum forest to our overnight stop, the much talked and debated double decker bus. That's exactly what it was, and is permanently there for their hiking trail. We had all ten beds to ourselves and got busy emptying all the emergency rations into the pots(being the last night). We had a visitor in one of the farm dogs and much debate ensued whether she should sleep in or out of the bus.
Legend and the hot buss

She survived outside, keeping the much vaunted snakes at bay.

Day 4 - contrasts

2009-12-27T14:29:00.000-08:00

Today was always going to be the big one, die groot baas of the trip. By now noone takes my estimates seriously. Everything is either 3 or 20 km. Today was a thumbsuck of 90km. Thank the pope I actually chopped 30km off the end and moved the finish point from eselfontein to matroosberg nature reserve.

Jannie had shown us halfway up the jeep track around the back of the swartberg mountain. It was steep, rocky and a dicey call. I slept on it and decided to rather play it safe with so much more to come in the day, so we went the alternate route on farm roads to the south.

A now clockwork early start and grey skies got us to the tar R318 without fuss and we got the paceline going. A chance meeting along the way and we had hooked up with a cycling Dirk Uys,the owner of Nadini - another prospective stopover in the area. His wife coordinates functions at the nearby Matroosberg station, a restored white elephant with a rail tunnel below it that has escaped its earmarked demolition.

For the first time in days we had signal, a sign that the N1 and civilisation was near. Our crossing point on the great north road was Karoo1.com - another spot with some serious paint thrown at it recently. We were clearly not quite fitting in this 5star spot, but got down to the important discussion of how the hell we'd find a way down the waterfall/kloof that Smuts got his commando through with brits chasing him.

With coffee and full sunshine on the way, I turned down the first offer of breakfast. The second one we took with both hands, and got waited hand and foot for a good half hour. Quite possibly the best scrambled eggs I've ever had, the 2hours old oatso easy a distant memory.

The kloof itself was a bit of a no show in the end. Basically a three stage waterfall, the first two a tight scramble. This ended in a sheer 10m+ drop. Not gonna happen. It did however give view of a dramatic sheer cliff/amphitheatre. There's also a ridgeline across the valley that drops from higher but at a more agreeable angle.

The cliff could be a future option, with the correct equipment this bike abseil would be a feature highlight. The ridgeline was a gamble of an option with some possibly sketchy boulders. To do it unsighted with a bike on your shoulders was just a bit too irresponsible with plenty of kms still to go later.

So it was back to the tar, on the N1 too. Just like the brit troops we'd skirt the hex river mountains and would rejoin at the R46 junction. It flew by, with albino springbok, aquila Big 5 lodge and kleinstraat military base all on the way. It's big mountain country, with sheer faces and peaks all around

We left the tar to find our way up the verlorenvalley. Another stunning property, our second 1812 house. Being midday we ended up waking Tiekie the farmer, but got free hand in the cherry shed. Further up was a huge great dam and the perfect lunch stop. For once we couldn't quite find enough shady trees and gave the customary snooze a miss.

One hallmark of this area of ceres is the multitude of dams, you're never far from the view of water. Makes the nav easier too.

We explored a few interesting approaches to Erfdeel, our camping spot for the night, but ended up using the main dirt access after some bridgeless river crossings.

One of the bonuses of the trip was our resupply at this point. Travelling in isolated spots means you never come past a woolies. Apart from clearing out the tuckshop at Leeuwenboschfontein on day 3, we'd not seen a shop since the Laingsburg OK. Everything had been carried, and we'd cooked pasta, rice, couscous etc on an MSR stove.

Erfdeel is better known as Matroosberg Private Nature Reserve and includes two campsites and a lot of mountain tracks, including the cape ski club area, Waldo had arranged for a braai and breakfast pack from the local pick n pay for us. We felt like kings, with our (warm) coke and chips round the campfire.

We had done a lot of km, over 100, and had a long session. Our reward was the bed of the trip, a large collection of pine needles and oh so comfy.........

Finished and klaar

2009-12-20T06:16:00.000-08:00

Now for the pinotage

Sir mix it up

2009-12-19T05:29:00.000-08:00

And no he didn't brush his teeth with fissan cream

Day 2 - the sahara ride

2009-12-19T05:27:00.001-08:00

Being a democracy we let a late start dominate the general plan. This did make a bit of sense due to the late hour we came in, but the cooker was going when we got moving.

The general consensus was that our saddles were not as comfy as the previous day, but the scenery was great. Before we knew it, the scratchy bits started. We ignored the rifle signs and headed up the wagendrift valley, to get some water at the empty lodge. Another gem of a spot in the wildernis.

By now the mercury was surely in the 30's and shade is hard to find in these parts. Having a new GPS with the route loaded we followed some teething red herrings before correctly riding up a sandy dry river bed that went on and on. Some pushing and swearing finally got us onto the nicely graded main road.

Not for long as we took the sneaky unmarked north entrance route into Anysberg reserve. By now lunch was required in a shady spot and the famed mevrou fourie from klein spreutelfontein gave us a willow tree. We were expecting at least some coffee and maybe some beskuit but her legendary hospitable reputation seems to be something I read about on the internet.

ZZZZZZzzzzzzzz

Doing our best to escape the heat with a snooze, we finally realised that a swimming pool was only about 25km at the reserve camp. Unfortunately most of it was saaaandy. It takes skill to keep the bike going and don't put a foot down until you're about to fall over.

Even though it was 'just' 65km, camp was an awesome oasis. We had booked a cottage here, the big splurge of the trip. Main reason for this was that camping was 'fully booked'. In the end we shared the entire place with two ladies camping. Our cottage was actually being renovated as they were adding a third braai to go with the drum.

The big attraction here was the pool. It's an old reservoir with a deck, so we pretended like we had cold beer and did diameters.

Anysberg is an interesting place, it's only been a reserve for 10 years and the cottages are very nicely spruced up cottages. But karoo worker's cottages are made with corrugated roofs and they suffer from hotboxalitis. Not bringing tabard we were inbetween a rock and a hot place,with all the mozzies buzzing outside.

So that's how we ended up with fancy duvets under the stars....

Day 3 - the R&r day

2009-12-19T05:27:00.000-08:00

Wow, the mood has shifted and early start is king! We set the alarm for 5 and woke to find it was already light, could even go earlier.

There was quite a bit of animal activity in the park,and bokkie spotting became the new sport. Only later could we see how different the reserve veld is to the bog standard bleak sheep farming scene.

For the first time we had a wide open vista and the view over the touwsrivier plain had us guessing the destination valley. Riding out the park, a first turn off the established trail onto our recce route was made at a spot auspiciously called brakputs. What looked like scarred river plain on google earth was actually green veld on the ground.

Confronted with the first electric fence, the hierarchy made chris try it out, luckily eskom was off. The next 30 km had a straight plod broken by one event. Just discussing a lunch plan a great red Massey Fergusen combine harvester rolled past at a good 30km/h. With glee we slipstreamed(and even held on at times) the next 10 clicks closer to home.

If you look hard enough you can find some gems in the karoo. Leeuwenboschfontein is one such place. Jannie, the owner, has developed it as a holiday farm and done an excellent job. He'd come through to see us about the trail and getting involved in it, so we had a bit of a grand tour.

Best swimming boating dam in ther karoo, and it has a little chalet too. Damon and I took a ride around the dam and up the kloof, so easy unloaded. We invented a new sport-jeep track racing. You each pick a lane and race to a point. Given a good combination of corners and dips it's a challenge of skill, speed and pure balls!

We had a hairy 4x4 ride to a possible route through the back of the imposing Swartberg which had us all nervously regaling our rocky riding skills. Then we went up an almost impossible track to a viewpoint. It must have been a 30' rock on a knife edge, and the faces around were whiter than squirt lube. We got a peak at the distant Matroosberg peak, where we we sleep behind tomorrow.

Another big highlight was that our stay coincided with the makadas overland tour and we shared the campsite. Mitzi puts on excellent races and this was a 4day ride taking in the best of the klein karoo. It was great to have bikers as campmates and a lot of free food came flowing our unsupported way. Sheesh we felt like kings, we even had wors to braai!

Long day but loving it

2009-12-18T07:16:00.000-08:00

Thwarted in our attempt to emulate Smuts' commando by plunging down the kloof behind karoo1 we've spent way too much time on tar.

But the arrival in Ceres has brought us some farm roads and splendid views. Lunch by the dam and promise of a braai tonight.

Here's chris and mechanical #1- cross chaining is bad!

Rooinekke go round

2009-12-18T02:43:00.000-08:00

Genl jan smuts got a commando including oxwagons down that kloof. The brits went around the mountain and never caught them.

We're going round too! Epic fail

Back in the real world

2009-12-18T00:25:00.000-08:00

Sorry have had no reception for a while. Just crossed the N1 and getting breakfast here: www.karoo1.com

Should have connection till finish now, so expect updates till wellington on sunday

Day1-the sneaky warmup hots up

2009-12-16T12:50:00.000-08:00

Pics-
*legend jumps off the train
*game country

Due to there being no moon, instead of a 3:30 start in laingsburg, the local tannies were making koffie and beskuit for Egoli when we started down the R318.

MY word the packs were heavy. First day of any trip is hard, but having three days before the next resupply meant we were chockablock.I'd also filled up the fuel canister for my msr stove and the joggies couldn't believe someome could pay R2.40 to fill up a tank. Oh and I hit the local biltong plek too, with every game park mammal on the wall(excellent stuff, store is just on the bend).

Headwind - major bathos.we picked off the tar and came to decision 1.be boring and tar all the way, or take a detour past the floriskraal dam and down the buffelsrivierkloof to rejoin the tar later. This would definitely end with us riding in the dark, but we gamely took it.

Oh the immediate joy of rubber on dirt. The dam is quite impressively large for these dry parts. We started down the valley gorge through a farm only to hit a horse sized dobermann, apricot orchards in harvest and a private gate in quick succession. The third was a problem and we asked the skattie at the farmhouse what the story was.

Acess not a problem, but the road had been washed away and hadn't been used for a while. Over a few juicy apricots and a squelch squelch test walk we decided to head back. We had about 30 minutes of sun left and hadn't really come for night riding.

Back at the tar we got into dark mode and then hit some hilly terrain. Bombing down the rooinek pass with a handful of candlepowers was a good way to forget the asphalt.

We eventually pulled into rouxpos at 10ish a little bit over it all. The easy tar km had been gradient heavy and the packs were still teething the lower backs. (The owners were away at their son's wedding, but we had arranged to camp out on the lawn. And what a fine lawn it is,even the lord milner's is inadequate.

We wolfed down a pie and got the couscous blaring, only for chris to pull out a bottle of sherry. He'd sneaked in a birthday and it topped the celebration of just surviving the opening day.

Hic

Day1-the sneaky warmup hots up

2009-12-16T12:22:00.000-08:00

Pics-
*legend jumps off the train
*game country

Due to there being no moon, instead of a 3:30 start in laingsburg, the local tannies were making koffie and beskuit for Egoli when we started down the R318.

Back at the tar we got into dark mode and then hit some hilly terrain. Bombing down the rooinek pass with a handful of candlepowers was a good way to forget the asphalt.

We eventually pulled into rouxpos at 10ish a little bit over it all. The easy tar km had been gradient heavy and the packs were still teething the lower backs. (He owners were away at their son's wedding, but we had arranged to camp out on the lawn. And what a fine lawn it is,even the lord milner's is inadequate.

We wolfed down a pie and got the couscous blaring, only for chris to pull out a bottle of sherry. He'd sneaked in a birthday and it topped the celebration of just surviving the opening day.

Hic

Africa rail travel

2009-12-15T03:15:00.000-08:00

Having five in the party there was always bound to be a mishap on the way. Chris managed to lose the keys to his bike shed,so we pushed back to the slightly later train.

Damon was stressing over his fancy new merida 96 getting thrown into the cargo carriage. The rest of the stuff waiting on the platform went from stoves, couches, fridges and a few makro bikes. But the vast majority was the pepstore packing bags. Proper africa and she's going home for christmas.

One way to laingsburg is hundred bucks, and twenty five for the fiets, so it's not surprising that the train arrives when we're supposed to leave. We've basically lost 80 minutes,and could end up riding into the night to rouxpos.

We have three route options, 38/ 55/ 70km, the further we go the better the view. Being first day, and only resupplying three days later in ceres, we all have fully loaded packs.

Pics;
*Waiting for the train
*Our bikes in their own carriage

IMG00052-20091214-2329.jpg

2009-12-14T15:36:00.000-08:00

Wow that's a lot of maps!we're using 1:50 000 maps,gps plotted track and just plain common sense following the sun west

testing testing

2009-12-14T03:15:00.001-08:00

does my phone blog?

Anysberg West

2009-12-13T15:46:00.000-08:00

on tuesday 15December 5 of us jump on a train to laingsburg.
We should arrive in wellington on 5 days later, trialling a new route for the freedom trail.

Unsupported, yippeeeeeee

hopefully updates here, plus live tracker to follow

WPASS presentation

2008-11-20T08:08:00.000-08:00

click for a larger view!

WPASS presents 'The Blanket Saga'
The Freedom Challenge - Race Across South Africa 2008
2300km MTB race, 'Maritzburg to Paarl - Steven Burnett

Old Mutual Sports Club, Jan Smuts Drive, Pinelands
Tuesday 25 November
7 for 7.30pm

Day 19

2008-09-03T05:48:00.001-07:00

I need an alarm to get up at the hours we've been waking. I've had a song from a local Cape Town band jacSharp to wake up to everyday. It's a beautiful melody called 'tonight' that puts a smile on my tired face everymorning, but it's an irony too hard to miss - you know your body clock has been hit for six when you smile to 'tonight' when waking up.

On the fridge is a map of the farm, and I really don't know where the guys have been bunked, as we seemed to have found them all. I quietly make myself some toast for a hasty breakfast and don my damp gear. Clearly not quiet enough I get a quick goodbye to my guardian angels. It's rained a lot last night and hasn't stopped either.

I stop in at the locked cottage on the way, and the big mystery is solved. The guys got in two hours ahead of me and went to bed early leaving a light outside. Unfortunately the door got locked somehow and didn't knock loud enough to wake them. I could justifiably get really hacked off with them right now, but that's no way to start a day that is hard enough without pre sunrise temper tantrums. Plus I'll really need friends today, and the lucky buggers are getting a tour guide for the kloof too.

There's no time to mess around but I hastily get my box emptied of all the final day treats I sent and have my maps inplace. I've put a pair of really old throwaway jeans in for the bundu bashing. Not sure if I'll be wearing them in the wet, you can't plan for everything.

We get to the dam manager's house in time, but late enough to knock on the door. He comments that a LOT of rain has fallen overnight. Us bikers are crazy, but to go through the kloof today is just insane. He doubts we'll make it over the first river crossing, and will have to bundu on the eastern bank till the path rejoins. We leave with his wishes and a still shaking head.

There's a longrunning debate on how to get your bike up this kloof. Some dismantle it into various parts and attach to your backpack. None of us have ever practised it, and we all decide instead to keep the bike in one piece and carry just like in any other portage. I get some raised eyebrows when we get to the path entrance. It's an eroded jeeptrack that has deterioated to a big donga, but I assure them its right. It's mostly walking from here, with a few spots of riding thrown in. Oom Danie is full of beans today and goes on like a chatterbox. It's wonderful to listen too.
The troops hit the trail
We get up to the first major nek and look around at this awesome valley. The water level has risen a good 5 metres since I was last here, maybe some of it last night. It's amazing to think that we're probably only 15km from Paarl mainstreet, yet this is as isolated as it comes. Before the freedom trail was started, we would have been in a solid bundu already. Maybe only a handful of people would venture here each year. In the inaugral trip, David had banked 2 hours for this unscouted section. During the trying day in this jungle with his two companions he 'struggled to look them in the eye'! I've spoken to Andrew King about it over the time we've ridden together, and its a memory he'll never forget.

Waterflow on the main river

We even manage to ride some of the path down to the river. It's hairy stuff as it winds through the bushes, handle bars reaching out to grab holds the whole time with spectacular results. Sure enough the river crossing is not an option in any way. For the last six weeks I'd been thinking of a way to cross here with a bike without getting feet wet! The video explains it all, Andrew Pollock the cameraman is an ace whitewater kayaker, he must be turning inside today wanting to 'break out the plastics' and play in all this cape wild water.

stu in the undergrowth

still there

So we bundu through the impenetrable bush. Attempt one has Stu making a good 20m in 15 minutes, so we send scouts for another route. It's a case of finding the least impossible path, and the vegetation is the limiting factor. Close to the river and it's thick, further up its not that better. Being The largest specimen of our group Andrew Barnes makes a nice big path for us to follow, but all to soon we reach a tributary that is coming down the mountain to join the main stream. The water isn't the main problem here, more that the vegetation is insanely thick. Some tree surgery creates a passage and its through to the next section where thankfully we can head up. Altitude and contours mean nothing here, it's all about the path of least resistance. The last kilometer has probably taken an hour.
waterflow on the tributary

We drop down the little ridge to join back up with the path that has crossed to the eastern side again. The push continues but its slow progress in the pouring rain. The next tributary we come to is much bigger than the last. One would probably get washed away in this. We have a look around for another way over it, as we have to cross it somehow. Looking at the map it drains a much larger area, but it's burst it's banks by a long way.
sit down and contemplate
We have to sit down and make some big decisions here. We could risk crossing it at another point higher up that seems to be narrower and steeper. Its reckless for sure without any equipment(but so is riding from maritzburg to paarl). Even if we make it to the head of the kloof, there's no guarantees we can cross the main stream there either. If we can't cross there, then we have no option but to come back out. The time frame on that would maybe end up with a wet night in the kloof.

We chose instead to turn around and cycle through to Rawsonville and up the N1. This option of a hasty retreat and backtrack from a difficult situation is definitely the soft one. We hadn't even got to the rocky scree that signals the start of the really insane stettyns circus. What would the race director say? What would the alumni who battled through the kloof and soldiered on when the going got rough say? At that point it didn't matter, to go on would be irresponsible. The clever BASE jumpers and big wave surfers woose out when it goes from crazy to just plain stupid.

So the 'easy' option started and the smiles had disappeared. The guys pulled my leg by suggesting we reconsider the decision, I fell for it hook, line and sinker. They knew I was disappointed by the retreat. The current score stands at Stettynskloof 2- 0 Me. We still had to bundu our way back through all the rough stuff we'd done earlier and it wasn't easier the second time.

We considered a short stop at Trouthaven, as Danie was getting really cold but chose to find somewhere in Rawsonville instead. We still had the small matter of a 60km plus ride in atrocious weather. And that sting in the tail, Du Toitskloofpas.

In Rawsonville we find a cafe and Andrew takes over clearing out the stock of pies, fish, chips, coffee, droewors and anything else considered essential. We get some locals giving us a hard time, we're not a common sight and who doesn't want to start an argument after a morning of Autumn Harvest? I reluctantly tell Kiwi Stu that Rawsonville is in the Guiness book of Records – for alchohlism and it shows.

Some of the guys go off ahead as its cold, but I wait for Andrew to finish his coffee, and we head off for our final ride together. We've inform race control of our movements and have been told to be careful on the N1 section. It's a busy road and exactly what we've been avoiding for three weeks. We take turns pacing, but its soon obvious that he'll be dragging me all the way home. My body really is finished, and I urge him to go on and i'll finish at my own pace. He's having none of that and promises to ride with me to the end. Even the pace slows down, but I don't get much in the way of breaks. I've been through the Molenaars river valley on the N1 countless times in my life, normally coming back from a holiday somewhere. Never have I seen so much water coming off the rocks, waterfalls have just started where they shouldn't be.

waterfalls
view from N1

We make it to the old road, that is now the 'alternate' to the Hugenout tunnel. It's a long hike to the top, but I've forgotten how long and it takes forever today. Andrew literally drags me up, even offering to take my bag (I stubbornly refuse, of course!). I smile for the cameramen, good to see Andrew King smiling(who finished yesterday). We catch up to Danie who's on the phone at the summit. The view is a murky 5m viz cloud, no table mounain sunset today. Danie knows the way down to Ashanti through the forest roads.
looking back at the old tunnel
try crack a smile

Near the bottom, we are greeted by the sight of David, diverting us onto the dam wall as the other road is apparently too muddy. Danie promptly falls over into a pile of mud on the dam wall, far too funny.

Halfway round the dam we can hear cheering, clearly our lights have been spotted, but it sounds like a thousand people have turned up as the sound carries over the water. We get closer and all the farmkids have arrived, for some reason I am ahead of the rest and get 20 kids running next to me, shouting the immortal words:”hou bene, hou”. The one guy asks if I can slow down a bit as I'm losing them!

Then we round the corner and I almost choke up over the final 100m on seeing the line. There's a whole crowd to see me after waiting all afternoon. We move onto the restaurant and theres so much to tell. Pizza arrives and is duly despatched. Andrew and Sirk have come back after finishing yesterday. Tim is there, as is Maarten van Dalsen (2007 winner).
say cheese
done, finished, klaar, kaput

with mom and dad
mmm, pizza
debating that some green line issue
the blanket saga support crew

There are a few photos and speeches, and we get our blankets; and just like that its all over. My bike is loaded into my parents' car and I'm driven home. It's said that as each journey ends, another begins.

showing off my blanket to my legend grandfather

Trouthaven to Paarl via Rawsonville- ~2300m of climbing
110km 14 hours door to door

Day 18

2008-09-02T01:43:00.001-07:00

2300km, are we there yet?!
I wake up to the real thought that today could be my last real day of riding. I should be able to do the triple up stage without too much drama as it's all shorter than normal and I know where to go too. From there it's the hike up stettyns and we're home free. It's been an underlying thought for the last few days and is now very much a more real prospect, what happens once you're done? The daily routine has become wake up, get ready and ride. As much as the bike has travelled, how much have I grown and changed as a person over the last three weeks? Is it for the better?

I can't dwell totally on this as I still have the small task of riding through some serious distance and there's a nasty storm brewing overhead. Having my very own TV with satellite in the cottage I know there's an even bigger one hitting cape town too.

Busiest road on the trail is Cogmanskloof which is the road that connects Montagu with the outside world through the Langeberg. I have rain falling and trucks splashing me with each pass, good way to start fast and get the kilometers ticking.

Ashton and the canning factory are familiar to me as I've driven the R60 countless times, but the route through the town is totally different to how I thought we crossed the Breede River towards McGregor. I find myself doubting the options in what was a confident section as we travel eastwards for a section(I'd ridden from McGregor before). After crossing the river on the red iron bridge we do indeed turn west and homewards again. I find my self crossing to the right hand side of the road to avoid some corrugated sections. Not ten seconds later a bakkie tears past without me even hearing him come. The pleasant habit of assuming you are the only road user will have to be kicked soon!

looking down into McGregor

With little fuss I am in McGregor and sit down to a muffin at the coffee shop. The other boys have two hours on me, will I catch them on the route today?Do I really need to? I'm again reminded of the impending rough weather from the locals and make a hasty retreat back into the cold outside. The 24km stage to Kasra is done in just under 2 hours and its a different feeling riding knowing exactly what's coming up and where to go. My maps stay in the bag (is this how Tim rides?!) as my eyes are on the grey clouds in the distance.

a porky welcome

Been here before in MAY

The Oestervanger guesthouse is an unexpected highlight of the trip. The ladies run what you could call a boutique restaurant with a single large diningroom table for guests by appointment only. I plonk down in the kitchen and am presented with a hearty butternut soup (ginger being the secret ingredient) and a juicy lambshank that falls off the bone. You eat three meals a day over a lifetime, but I'd squeeze this one into my top ten all time list. I'm still feeling rather queasy and those who know me will agree that all is not well if I turn down dessert. I turn down the very attractive offer of even just an hours shut eye.
go up there
on this stuff

Belly full to bursting, it's time to move on and do the Trappieskraal jeep track. It's been on the Cape Epic a few times, could be recognised as the really rocky hill that goes on forever under the powerlines. Six weeks ago I mostly rode up it, today I push almost the whole way.

its raining where i have to go

The day passes by slowly, and constantly I see wet grass and clouds up ahead yet only confront slight drizzle. I scream down the Jonaskop road and am very happy to see that the Doornrivier algemene handelaar is open today. I make the obligatory coke purchase (and have now spent almost R100 over the last three weeks) from the tannie who knows me as one of the basutho blanket riders (sounds like Steve and Kevin spent some time there last year). Back on the road, I'm reminded that I'm definitely close to home as I dodge a motionless plaaswerker who has started his friday night at noon. Who cares if papsak is banned if you still have a dop system?
gesuip so 'n demoon-couldn't wake him

The familiar sections roll by without much hassle, I'm even involved in now answering all the messages from friends and family who want to know to the hour when I'll be arriving. The straight reply is 'saturday sometime' and I appoint a PR agent on the spot to handle my social affairs. Before the race I had thumbsucked 20 days as a goal which would be a Sunday finish. A day earlier and i won't even get in the way of the wimbledon mens final!

spot the engineer - brandvlei distribution

For the second time in recent history I roll straight through Brandvlei prison without seeing a warden or prisoner on the grounds (we come in through the very unmanned and totally unfenced back entrance). It really does look like a country club with its sports amenities and clubhouse on the dam, the only reminder of its penitentiary function is trying to get past security as I leave(or is it escape?).
Brandvlei entrance on MAY training ride

Night falls and the mercury follows suit. Friday night round here means dodging pedestrians who stumble on the side of the road with the randomness of final round boxers. I start to celebrate my dry luck too early as it starts raining when I have about three kms to the farm and tonight's bed. And it starts pouring like never before. At least I know where reception is at this place.

Cats and dogs are flying around me as I get to an unmanned reception and owners house (it is friday night). We're out of cellphone range so I rush to the closest chalet to see if its ours. Unfortunately the couple can't help me with any info, but I know there are other cottages further up the road. By now I'm totally sopping, miserable and starting to lose it as the frustration level rises. I should be inside, eating and warm but instead I am looking for the damn house after 13 hours of riding. I follow a MTB sign up a hill to some lights only to realise that I'm at the workers housing and have gone up the farm's MTB route. Finally I find a paper sign with 'freedom challenge' and an arrow on it. The arrow points up a hill, with three route options. Half an hour's searching reveals an empty locked cottage with only the outside lights on, and some wet orchards.

Feeling like a drowned rat I have no option but to return to the only people that seem to be on this farm, the occupants of the first cottage. 'Boy' is a coloured contractor from Piketberg, and opens the door with disbelief that I'm still pedaling outside in this storm. I can't get over how foreign this scene would be just 15 years ago and have trouble addressing my good samaritan with what I thought would be a derogatory term. I get given a drink(whiskey) and food(left over braai) and we jump in the car to see if we can find the designated house. Some really scary driving in a 4x4 on muddy roads follows. Still no luck with the search and the only option is to bunk in one of their spare beds. I'll have to be up in a few hours anyway and can do Stettyns without my maps (maybe?!).

my lucky warm bed

So much for local knowledge, maybe I'll see the other four tomorrow in the valley. For now it's imperative to rest as the hike up the kloof is going to be even harder with all the rain. You can add an extra three kilograms with everything drenched. I don't even bother drying stuff as the deluge will continue for a few days.

Montagu to Trouthaven via Mcgregor and Kasra- ~2518m of climbing
170km 15 hours door to door

Day 17

2008-08-28T01:37:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling very grumpy today, maybe because its just so many consecutive days of early rise and out into the darkness but mainly because I have picked up a stomach bug. Getting on a bike is not on the top 10 list of 'things i want to do right now', but i'm just gonna stick with the boys today and grin and bear it. On the faster roads it really helps to 'stay in the bunch', but I'm not even going to bother with the map. Good thing for us our hosts are up and smiling with a lovely cooked breakfast at the ungodly hour of 4, special people indeed. I'm battling to keep up with the train today, but have outlasted Stu who has done his trick of letting Allen, Andrew and Danie go and soldier on at his own pace. In my own mind I'm pushing for the double up to Montagu, and almost do a double take when Andrew says the plan for them is to triple up to McGregor. Well at least we've got on the road early and the nav is easy, as there's 'only one road'. I request a 'hot clothing removal stop', mainly to get a brief respite, its all too quick and we don't even get a peek at the map. Chasing back to the train, I come across a foraging porcupine crossing the road, he beat me to the bush before I could get the camera out. We're quite impressed with the speed and distance covered when we come to our first junction, unfortunately it is the road to Montagu, and not Anysberg reserve. We've missed the nav and doubled back on ourselves. Going fast is a terrible thing when its in the wrong direction. We've gone so far we're actually off the map and not sure where we actually are. The next car coming past is not that helpful, but the subsequent bakkie driver takes pity and puts our bikes on the back to take us up the road to the closest farmer who will know it all. GUILTY look And that is how we ended up at Oom kanniedienaamherrinner se huis with a fresh pot of coffee and rusks for africa. He's off to the kalahari to go hunting, but his son is easily bribed to take us back to the spot we went wrong. It's not really cheating, as we're getting taken back to where we rode off the course, but the gps track must have been interesting with 100km speeds repoted. We did phone race control and were given the option of riding straight to Montagu if we really wanted to, but would miss out on some worthwhile terrain. I jumped at the opportunity to use a modern bathroom and confirmed for sure that I did indeed have a terrible stomach bug. concrete dam conversion anysberg cottages I slack totally off the pace once in the reserve getting to the Support Station, and by the time I got there the boys were finishing off lunch. We heard the news that the hollywood two had caught up with Sirk in the night and the three were reunited again in their combined push to stettyns, on that day. ouch. I had little option but let the rest go off in their quest for McGregor, I wasn't feeling very strong, but would have to make montagu and recover there. I loaded up with lots of water, knowing my system wouldn't be absorbing much and set off alone on the 77km stretch to Montagu. ignore the signs The riding was probably really nice and inspiring, but it all passes me by as a dredge in my state. Time passes, kilometers tick by and with each pedal stroke I am closer to Montagu. Its the first town on the trip that I can confidentally say I actually know. If I phone someone in Cape Town now, they could even be there by the time I arrive. But I'm not feeling very sociable right now and continue on the open road. I'm not sure how differently I would have ridden had I seen the profile before hand, but at the top of the Ouberg pass I knew that I could make the 30 odd kays to town. One of the most welcome surprises was the next 16 kays passing with hardly a pedal turned, surely one of the longest rollercoasters i've ever ridden and probably the greatest. it's all downhill from here It was a shock to actually ride a car in traffic again, Montagu rush hour is not much to worry about, but it felt very foreign right then. The ladies at the information bureau pointed me in the right direction and I actually saw the other boys on their way out of town. Andrew asked if I wanted to join them, but there was no way I could go another km. I thus had an entire guesthouse to myself, a hot bath and George's biltong ration. The unheard of and totally outlandish luxury of DSTV would get me back to speed with two weeks of Wimbledon too. When the sound of raindrops started to hit the roof I smiled at my decision to stay put. It had been a grind of a day running on empty, and its hard to hide during 150km even if it is on nice hardpack gravel. I got to bed knowing that it would be a long triple up day to rawsonville, but achievable. The route from mcgregor would be replaying in my mind after the scouting trip done there a month earlier, you can never waste time on reconnasaince. Rouxpos to Montagu via Anysberg- ~1890m of climbing 170km 15 hours door to door(detour included)

You gotta grip it

2008-08-21T02:59:00.000-07:00

One of the big debates I had kitwise revolved around my carbon handlebar. Some line of thought swore not to put bar ends on them (or even take them at all). It does happen that they break, results normally being rather dramatic. Being stubborn, I chose not to heed that advice in the end.

You need bar ends, to give you more hand positions over such long days. When glancing through Bicycling magazine’s Epic bike lowdown, I was surprised that so many of the top pros had them fitted. They’ve had an air of ‘funrider’ to them for a while.

The most amazing things I’ve ever put my fingers, palms and wrists on have got to be Ergon grips. It’s like they sent some dude over and measured my hands whilst I was sleeping. Maybe they weigh a bit more, who cares? Just go to your LBS and feel them. I never thought I could get so excited about rubber. They’re also integrate with the grip, so the stress should be less on the carbon fibre bar. I had some hoseclamps for a just incase type of repair, they ended up on Andrew Barne's seattube.

Day 16

2008-08-21T02:29:00.001-07:00

I'm up in the dark,pack my bags and ride to the guesthouse for breakfast. The group 1 boys have got their act together quicker and are just leaving as I arrive. Breakfast is a nice spread, but not feeling too good I battle to get anything down. Nevertheless I'm out into the murky darkness and soon at the turnoff to the Swartberg pass. I know its a big climb to the top and expect about 20km of uphill, but none of it is visible.

hello darkness my old friend

After a while I can hear a car coming and its easy to tell that its a windy road by the accelerate and brake repetitions, a long time passes before a bakkie swings past. Otherwise I am completely alone out there and night slowly turns to day as I make my way skywards. I stop on a false peak and take some photos of the early morning light. There's a slight descent and all of a sudden a turn off to the right. The pass continues further, so I'm very suspicious that the race director has given us a route of it before the summit!

I feel very ALIVE right now

My camera seems to have broken or at least shifted some prisms inside. I've had it in a small bag attached to my shoulder strap for easy access to get those must have pics. After rubbing against my thigh about 300 000 (guesstimate) times it's got irritating and I put it in my stem bag on the way to Prince Albert. Not a very good idea as the corrugations shook it funny! Anyway, excuse the dark sections in the corners. And then later it went blurry, only to fix itself after a good rest. For that reason I have pulled some pictures(credited as AH) from a group who toured the Trail in March/April, taking the leisurely(and wholly more senisble) time of 35 days. They skipped a bit of the Karoo and went via Knysna, but then rejoined from the otherside of the Swartberg Pass and went all the way to Cape Point.
Find Andrew Hagen's photo's here:
http://picasaweb.google.com/Andrews.pointless.username/FreedomTrail2008Beta?authkey=RxhP9sb83LQ

It's a myth that it's all downhill to Die Hel, but it's well advertised that it's a myth so I knew i was in for a bumpy ride. Once again it's a valley not short on views and there's plenty of time to stop and stare. There's two main climbs (scattered with lots of smaller ones too) on the way in, and I caught up with Stu on the second.
looking west into the valley
AH-looking east another day

I'd been to Die Hel once before, in 1999 on a hiking 'toer' with the maties hiking club (the BTK). It's got quite a history and was for generations a very isolated farming valley that got cut off by the buildng of the Gamkaskloof dam(or so i'm told). That time we came up the river, and now I'm approaching by the road that was built to help the valley, but caused its downfall. The residents were happy with their isolation, the government thought they were living as sub-class humans and built the access road. A few years after it was completed, they had all left.

I now got to enjoy this road in the best way possible, tearing down it and high speeding the many switchbacks. In the valley floor itself its quick to see that a lot has been done since I was last here. Cape nature has refusrbished all the deserted and dilapidated buildings and very tastefully turned the whole valley into a large scale museum. Well worth a visit if you're ever in the area, I'd return just to sit down for a meal at the Hell's Kitchen restaurant.

AH - ou ossewa AH - restored house

The farmhouse where we camped all those years ago is now the head office, and the rest of the boys are there at what is the Support Station. I'm still not feeling great, but manage to get some sarmies and a cup of tea down before I rejoin the main group on the way out of Die Hel (I'm sure there's a craftier way to phrase that!).

AH - Die Leer track is past the right post

There's a short little nasty ridge to cross before getting to the bottom of Die Leer. This is the historical 'donkey track' that was used for generations to access the outside world. If Stettynskloof is the chinese water torture of the trip, then this is the thumb screw. It's a 400m vertical rise on a rough track that is almost undefined at times. The only reason we know its possible is because its been done before. The bilingual readers will laugh at the afrikaans bystander who asked in astonishment as we started from the base in his very crunchy english “are you going to carry your bike up the leather?”.

AH -David's famous grove of poplar trees

I quote from the narrative here:
“When you get to the stream look on the opposite side. There is a small group of poplar trees. You must cross the stream and climb up BEHIND the trees. As you go behind the trees you will experience a moment of magic. There will be a foot path. You are now on The Ladder. Pick up your bike and carry it upwards until you emerge at the top where there is the ruin of an old garage.”AH-the slog uphill

look carefully for the bike wheel of Stu the Kiwi

Maybe I have gone out too fast earlier this morning, but I'm not feeling too good or experiencing any magic and really take my time stopping for a view break on numerous occasions. I spend a lot of time wondering what happened to the donkeys that took this route. Stu seems to have a similar problem and in all it takes us about 80 minutes to complete it, whilst the other guys did it in about 45.
down to the valley floor

From there it is a very rough track that is flattish but unrideable in large parts. We've been warned that the farmer who owns the land contends the access to this right of way, and if he is in a bad mood he might be on his side of the fence with a shotgun and a hand pointing to a no-entry sign. As we approach a group working on a fence I take the lead as the afrikaans speaker of the two. They are only too happy to chat but we rush off before they change their mind or mention the landowner.

At this point Stu goes on ahead as I decide to ease the pace for the remaining 50 odd kays to the support station as I'm feeling very week and there is no hurry. It's a terrible slog getting to the road, and looking at the profile now I realise it was all uphill. Once on the road it's relatively easy riding but theres a little wind blowing straight into me. I have a few reminiscent moments as we pass places I hiked all those years ago and a field that we turned into a campsite for 50. We also go past Seweweekspoortpiek, highest mountain in the western cape (but not even given a passing reference in the narrative – local knowledge helps).

Quoting from the narrative again:
“When you reach the top of Horlosiekrans prepare yourself for one of the fastest downhill rides around. The gradient, the surface and the camber combine to draw you into a great descent. Top speed reported on the downhill is currently 78 km/hr. Minimise the braking and enjoy the wind in your face. Emerging at the bottom you might want to head back up and do it again without touching the brakes.”
I have to admit that amidst the 37 pages of broken english, generalisations, assumptions, blaring errors and downright lies this paragraph is without a doubt the most accurate piece of text I have ever read from a lawyer. Unfortunately my trust in his words is not yet whole and I do brake a bit on the early corners only topping out at 65km/h. Turning back to do it again is a good idea, but will have to wait for another day.

Once again its spellbinding scenery picking through the Vleiland valley and then turning into the Rouxpos valley. I'm treated to an african sunset of reds and pinks reflecting off the sheer mountain face and its unfortunate that I miss the last of it in the darkness.
AH - Rouxpos homestead,look at the date
The Roux family homestead is an engaging haven of warmth in both climate and hospitality. After four days of dirtyness we have laundry done for us two days in a row, what a pleasure. The food is great and waffles hit the spot for a weak rider. The hollywood boys come in a bit later and it looks like Andy has recovered from the Baviaanskloof low sufficiently that they are going to push on and try catch Sirk. I wish good luck to them (and shake my head) and offer some tips of the final route. They will be riding basically non-stop from Prince Albert, and there's a chance we might still catch them if they miss the window on the stettyns timeslot. My likely finishing place of fifth or worse is sealed at this moment, but its the furthest thing on my mind right now. Another early start is planned to make it to Stettyns in two big leaps, so I get to bed early.

Prince Albert to Rouxpos via Die Hel- ~4638m of climbing
157km 15 hours door to door

Day 15

2008-08-18T00:12:00.001-07:00

The human body is an amazing thing. After crawling into town last night a broke and spent force, I’m actually awake at 5 and eating breakfast ready for a 160km day. When I went to bed, I had the alternate stop of Rondawel 90 kays down the road as my first goal. You have to break the day up into achievable milestones, but I feel confident I’ll make it to Prince Albert before dark.

Today is seen as a bit of a rest day. Pushing through to Die Hel (like Sirk) is a big ordeal and most won't attempt it. It is still 160km (and therefore a fabled 'century' ride for our imperial bikers in the us) but rather flat with no major hills or passes to speak of. If there's any doubt of the insanity of this race, then a 160km rest day should clear that up.
ossewa

I’m back in with the group 1 peleton now after falling off a few days ago. The dynamic has changed since I left them. Stu the kiwi is still tiptoeing his deadline of making a flight back to the UK, but the other three aren’t so worried about him now. He seems to fall off the paceline but is strong enough on his own and doesn’t lose much time. I stick with the program upfront which is 5km each to do the work. The system works great and the km roll past, except when Allen gets his nose in the wind and drills us all. Who ever thought I’d get guttered in the karoo?

The road surface is great, most of the time, but there are some patches of terrible backbreaking elbow rattling corrugations. Very unwelcome to say the least and they break up the rhythm totally.
We’re on some very out of the way roads and then actually turn into a farm to go on some route David has found for us. Its an old wagon path from days long gone by and we even see an old one on the side. The vegetation is what my std 7 geography teacher would probably describe as ‘renosterveld’.
thumbs up from Andrew B

Some purists would say that its boring riding on flat nondescript roads, but there’s a feeling of pioneering and openness on this road. The best word for it really is ‘freedom’. I can’t put my finger on it, but there definitely is something special about the Karoo to me.its not even hot today, perfectly overcast and cool.
Rondawel farmhouse
Lunch at Rondawel is one of the quirkier stops. Cristiaan is a young bachelor farmer who grew up on the farm next door where his parents still are. I'm still not sure if he actually knew we were coming but he had moerkoffie, beskuit(rusks) and plaasbrood for us. His mom had done a bit of the baking, but Sirk had made a little dent in the supplies before we arrived and we tucked into about 6 sarmies each.There was little left when we were done, and later when the hollywood boys got there they were down to the crust. Matt sneakily did an inspection of the two fridges in the kitchen. the one was off and the other had a solitary ice tray. Would be an interesting stop for the night, pretty guaranteed you'd get an egte karoo braai with skaaptjops from heaven.

we like to stop and chill at intersections

as expected we rattled off the remaining kilometers painlessly. at one point we came about ten kms from my old varisty roommate's farm. Maybe next time I could find a way to justify the ~40km roundtrip to their house and back, but for now we were shifting at a good pace.
coming into Prince Albert with NGK in view
As expected we got into town with light on our side as early as 3.being school holidays I got billeted in an overflow house back in the dorp(so ihave to ride back where i came from – never cool after 160km, but wasn't that bad). I got so frustrated with myself sorting out all the admin at the guesthouse(including getting my laundry done – there goes the darlington mud) only to misplace the keys to the house. I made quite a sight turning my worldly possessions upside down looking for it!i even made a trip to the local PEPstore, retail therapy always does the trick, even if you are only buying toothpaste.
can i buy a blanket?The house was a really cute cottage and I got busy with some proper bike wash and general TLC. When you get the time its a good idea to go over the bike and get some preventative maintenance done. A knock on the door and home mechanic/local singelspeed enthuasiast Johan Rissik comes in to help with whatever needs done (but refuses to touch any gears!). He's just done a ride from Sishen to Saldanha tracing the the well known railway line, and we get chatting. My pedals have shot their bearings and they get an inspection and a regrease. Hold thumbs they'll last to cape town.

my baby with her mudpack still on

cute cottage, eh?

We all go back to the guesthouse for a meal and a general planning chat. The monster Swartberg pass is first up and if we want to double up its going to be a 4am start. That's the easiest way to kill any after dinner lounging around!

Willowmore to Prince Albert- ~1038m of climbing
160km 9 hours door to door

Day 14

2008-08-12T06:07:00.000-07:00

dark riding

Up at 4 and out the front door into the cold and dark by 4.30, a long road ahead. Navigation not a problem today as there is actually only one road through the valley. Sirk and I teamed up, the group 1 boys already up the road and the camera two taking their time (after not getting beds, ouch). It was comforting that Sirk knew the names of the climbs up ahead, not good that he also said they were big. Of course when its so dark for so long you have no visual idea of whats coming up ahead. this has its mental pros and cons, normally a blissfully unaware tempo up the first half followed by grimacing and swearing as you will the bike around every corner hoping it to be the top.

The first climb of the day was up really soon, I pretty soon forgot about the very cold (probably two or three degrees celsius) temperature as we got the legs pumping and the heart rate up. It's nice to see the riders up ahead (and above) as the road switched back and forth up the pass. Getting up here took a fair whack of effort, and was probably done a little too quickly. Look at the profile, it's known in the TransBaviaans race as the Mother of All Climbs (MAC) and we were doing it in reverse. Eish, I'm glad I didn't know it at the time!

We actually passed the group 1 guys down the hill (try doing that in the dark) but it all came together again at a river crossing. There was no way around and the only option was to wade through or take shoes off first to keep them dry. The water was really cold (that's an understatement, but my parents have a holiday house up the weskus, so I know my cold water) and my feet just closed up totally. Through the valley dip it got so unbearably cold I relented and pulled out my big luxury of the trip. My CapeStorm Reactor fleece only did this 2km on the road, but kept me snug off the bike every evening.
putting shoes back after wading

By the third river crossing I gave up caring and just waded through to Sirk who was already putting shoes back on. To his utter dismay, he was just on a split in the river and joined me with wet feet after a very uncharacteristic flood of bad language. By now the sun was up, but it remained uncomfortably cold till 10am in the windless valley. We seperated on another large climb and even started seeing the occasional car, being school holidays. The scenery really is too hard to describe fully, and I felt like I was rushing through it and passing some old old farm structures from days long gone that on any other trip would be explored.

looking down and back
riders down there

I came across two other cyclists coming my way and stopped for the proverbial chat.
Me:hey guys howzit going?
Cyclist 1:flippen cold, you training for transbaviaans?
M:hmmm, not sure, maybe I am actually
Cyclist 2:gees dude whats with the big bag, you kitted out there.
M:yeah i'm doing this race from maritzburg to paarl
C1: b l i k s e m
moments silence
C2:when is it?
M:oh i'm about two thirds of the way through it right now.
C1;sh1t that's hardcore. respect dude, you crazy
C2:so how far you going today?
M:hoping to get to Willowmore
C1:oh my sack! that's like transbaviaans uphill with that bag as well. you must be uber fit.
M: cheers, Paarl ain’t getting closer. There’s about five guys behind me.
C2:are you winning?
M: no there’s another guy 3 days up the road.

We went our respective ways, you could just see in their eyes that what had initially been a tough training ride in very cold weather was put into perspective by our dose of insanity. As things turned out, they were the only mountain bikers I saw on the entire route. Plenty of farmworkers on dikwiel post office bikes to put all of us to shame really.
thawing feet
When I saw a capenature work party huddle round a fire next to their green army tent I did the obvious. Throw the bike down and sidle up for a spot in the warmth. I suspended my feet above the coals and finally got some life back into them as they thawed. great chit chat whilst that happened too.
no under 18

Clearly someone has jumped on the Ronnie bandwagon, and opened a ‘sex shop’ here too. Normally we only see a farmstall like this about every 300km, so you can’t ride past. Unfortunately it was only 3kms to the SS/lunch so no point in stopping. A nice surprise to the right was the most beautiful police station in the country – Studtis. They even have Uri’s for patrol vehicles.
studtis copshop
I got to the SS first, Dam se drif is a farm/guesthouse. The owner/operator was awesome, she hadn’t been told we were coming, but bent over backwards getting us a solid meal to die for. Sometimes these awesome lunches are just too much, we still had 90 kays to go! Within 30 mins all the rest pulled in, I managed to squeeze in a sneaky shower whilst we waited on the grass sunning ourselves.

The big drama was Andrew Barnes cracking his frame. The seattube sheared just above the weld, and they secured it by tying the saddle forward to the handle bar (and a lot of riding out the saddle). Now this is drama, he’s a really tall guy and his seatpost was probably overextended (despite the fact that it was within the manufacturers limits). As the experts (not me) would tell you, it’s not that easy to weld aluminium. Enter boer maak ‘n plan rescue plan.

The owner’s father on the farm next door is a legend welder, and even repaired a bike that had cracked through near the bottle cage two years previously! They came to collect the bike, and brought it back 30 minutes later, with a legend repair job that would last the trip. Meanwhile Andrew was on the buzzer and had located a longer seatpost in PE that his cousins would drive out to Willowmore. Drama, what drama?!
boer maak'n plan

I got back on the road first, as it had been a long rest indeed and I was eager to get to Willowmore. The road was very deceptive, and looking at the profile now, I can see that it was really a gradual rise forever even if it looked flat. After 20 kms I really wondered why I was going so slow. I was probably doing 12km on a flattish road. I checked both wheels, both brakes, the chain, the pedals etc for resistance. The bike was 100% fine, and the problem was simply that I was blown. Shattered, with 70km left to go. Hit the wall. Bonked. Monkey on my back. Finished. Faak.

Two of the guys came past and offered advice and support. It would be unchartered territory for me. I would have to just grin and bear it and dig really deep. I hate it when people ride their bikes with Ipods. If you’re on the road you need to hear the traffic, if you’re in the mountains you NEED to hear the nature. It was a bit of a debate to take one along for the long, straight and dreary Karoo roads. My perfect solution was just to get a memory card for the phone and take headphones. This was the first time I rode with it on and this is music got me through the day:
Cake - Comfort Eagle
Counting Crows – August and everything after
U2 – The Joshua Tree
Crowded house – the best of.
changing danie's tyre

I got quite scared of the Nuwekloof pass. We’re in a monster valley and this is the only way out. Luckily it wasn’t that bad, but I wasn’t going to hang around to help repair Danie’s wheel after it picked up a pencil sized thorn. At the top of the pass the road emerged to a plateau of sorts. It looked like about 35km to go with maybe less than an hour of light remaining. Some of the guys came flying (its all relative) past me and I kept plugging away on what seemed the right road. The distances in the narrative stopped making sense and by the time it got dark I felt very disorientated. I couldn’t concentrate, my eyesight went hazy and I was really on my last legs. There was talk before the race that Willowmore is the tipping point for quitting the race as you are sitting on the bus route. I never thought of quitting, but was at my lowest ebb physically. I wasn’t in a good shape upstairs either, but at least I still knew that I could force myself to carry on.
nuwekloofpas

looking back into the valley

What seemed like the first intersection made no sense and I stopped to study it. A bakkie pulled up and asked if I needed help. It turned out I was right, and instead of about 20 to go, I had only 12…almost all downhill. That was good news, but you have to be careful not to count chickens before they hatch. There’s nothing worse than false hopes getting dashed.

Stu the kiwi caught up to me on the tar road on the outskirts of town. The lodge was very well signposted, being the biggest hotel in the town (and maybe even the whole Karoo). It was very different swapping a farmhouse for a hotel bed. I crashed straight onto my bed once I found it. Wary of not recovering properly I eventually moved to the bathroom and had a long and well deserved shower. I rejoined the guys in the hotel restaurant, and got very grumpy when my food took an hour and a half to arrive. The poor manager/waitress/concierge/barlady had her hands full and all I could do was sift through the ‘fair game’ boxes and pass out on the tv room couch! Anything for the days when the food is sitting on a hot tray and you dish up at your own whim and desire.

The past few long days had caught up to us, and Sirk and Andrew King were in a similar condition to myself. Bizarrely (I thought), Sirk announced that he was going to be leaving at 4 the next day and doing the 250km to Die Hel. I wasn’t even sure if I could even get on a bike in 7 hours time. It would be exactly the same move that the 2007 winner (and his Cape Epic riding partner) Maarten van Dalsen did to shake off a certain Tim James. Matt was keen to follow, but Andrew needed the rest (and had their maps!). It was hard to read into the logic, but he was either trying to shake off the boys and move into second outright or he was chasing a finish time and racing the clock. Either way I couldn’t see the logic and wished him good luck.

Cambria to Willowmore via Dam se drif- ~5240m of climbing
171km 15 hours door to door

blogga slogga

2008-08-11T02:43:00.000-07:00

so you might have noticed the pictures are not coming through.

after many attmepts to clear out my cache, and sort out the gmail connection to, i found this on the blogger help site. . .

Hey folks,

As many of you have reported, there are a few issues with image upload
that we need to sort out. We're currently working on the problem and
hope to have it resolved soon.

Thanks for you patience,

Gatsby
The Blogger Team

. will keep the posts coming, don't go too far

Day 13

2008-08-07T23:06:00.000-07:00

i'd like to thank my sponsors

By now you could say I am really into the swing of things on the race. Getting up from a cosy bed, hobbling around picking riding gear and squeezing everything into a bag is a routine. I'm almost always the last to leave, but not by much. Its easier now to plan today, tomorrow and the next as you have an indication of what is possible, and what's coming. We've been on the run for almost two weeks now, and there's nothing left to hide.

Of course I have race strategy in the back of my mind. Barring a major catastrophe, Tim has first place sewn up as he's now sitting two days up the road, effectively three days ahead of me. I'm riding in fifth, but have positions two to four under my eye. The chasing pack behind me is also now under the same roof. I've got a day on them, and could safely sit tight there.

And that's my plan, sit tight. I'd have been happy with fifth place before I started, but having luckily got into 2^nd I've seen what its like at the front. My trump card is my knowledge of the last two days of the course, having scouted it in a training weekend. Hell, I've dipped my hiking shoes into the bloodbath that is Stettynskloof and come out alive (albeit the way we went in). I'll have to see how the race for second goes, if the group splits I can follow the leader and maybe jump into third or fourth. If it all stays together I can lay a late charge and bank my gap on doing the last section in the dark. There is a time gate at the Stettynskloof dam, if you don't get through it by 8am, then you wait till 3am the next morning. That gives me 19 of the 24 hours I need to catch up on the boys ahead, the rest will have to come from a fast passage through the kloof. It's a gamble and most likely won't come off. But if the unmentionable happens to Tim and he's forced to pull out, well then its racing for the win and worth the risk.

But for now, I shut up and ride. I'm pretty damn tired anyway, so this racing thinking is unhealthy to say the least. Today is kind of a rest day, we're only doing one 'stage'. Tonight's support station Cambria is seen as a bit of a bottleneck, as it's hard to double up past it in one shot. There is a bit of a route option today, some were told that we could skip the 'green route' scratchy section through the Perdeberg due to there being Kudu hunters in the valley. The group one boys opted for the longer route around the mountain and we took the short and sharp track through the veld.

The path takes us under a fence, with a vervet monkey taken by a gin trap to remind us that this is rough country.
poor guy

We've got to be careful of not getting caught ourselves. We then managed to curse our option as there was no real route through the valley, and we ended up walking up a dry riverbed. It was very slow going, having to duck under low branches and negotiate smooth rocks now and then. It took us a while, but eventually a track to nowhere emerged, and yay we were on the bikes in a flash.

We were heading towards a farmstead, and of course when we got there it was dead locked and empty. Once again we were off the bikes and hiking up a steep hill. It wasn't far to the top, but the first section of a portage is always the hardest. The top tube digs into your shoulders and neck, and your arms are bent awkwardly in balancing the bike behind your head. It gets easier for some reason, maybe because you start huffing and puffing or maybe because everything just goes numb. Once on top we found a path of sorts that lead through a plateau. As Newtown would attest, we then got to go down, a thrilling charge switching between a jeep track and a footpath that wound next to it. Of course Sirk beat us to the bottom, despite stopping for his daily trip to the bushes!

We rejoined the main road and it hugged a contour along the valley side.
big country
grootrivierpoort
Andrew had warned us about some impending monster hills and the general topography was indeed just sheer valleys all around. I'd heard about the Baviaanskloof (mainly from this insane race that goes 230km through it in one go), and I could feel it was just around the corner. Have a look at the days profile below, we shunted down the twisty steep Grootrivierpoortpas to the river below and stopped to fill up water bottles from a rainwater tank.

crossing over

lunch spot for kings

We'd have to take our time in getting out of this valley, the term describing it in the narrative is 'dramatic descent' and 'equally ridiculous 400m climb'. I was watching the altimeter on my Suunto Observer and we had done the majority of the altitude gain in the first third of the hill, well that's what I hoped as it was brutal. Luckily for the race director his narrative was correct and the road levelled out a bit and on cresting we could even see the sea in the distance. Just a touch down the road we stopped at one of the greatest lunch spots i've had the pleasure to sit at. You get places with 360' views; and others, like here, where you have to think in three dimensions as the splendour is all around you.

We sat in a row lined up together scoffing our sarmies and looking at this crazy track we were to be following next.

osseberg jeep track

The Osseberg jeep track is rutted and dangerously steep in places, it follows ridge lines and valley dips as it falls 600m over 10 glorious kilometers. There are at least five viewpoints where you just have to stop and gaze in awonder at all around you. I'm going to have to go back there sometime to do it again, be it on a bike or even a 4x4 (is it really possible?!). We didn't realise it at the time, but the four of us (plus the cameramen polly and dave) wouldn't ride together again as a group. Looking back I can't believe it was only three days, but it was some of the best times I had on the route.

Sirk got impatient and heaved off, we still had 8 river crossings to do at the bottom of the valley and they are much more fun during daylight! I was next off a bit behind him (the boys were good at post lunch pfaffing), but didn't bother with catching up. Being bumpy double track with a meneer middlemannetjie running down the middle, there's a tough call on which track to ride in. You concentrate on the road straight ahead and try assess if it's better to swap when it gets bad. Of course anticipation is really handy here, but often you've just got to stick with your choice and plug on. Halfway down a grassed hill, there happened to be an unsighted fox/badger/whatever hole on the left track. You could only see it when your frontwheel was in it. I had taken that route and went flying over the bars and landed in a heap that turned to laughter once I knew all was ok. I even looked back a few times up the next ridge to see the boys coming down, camera ready for the unavoidable wipe. They never came, but chatting later it turned out we all hit it!

I'd stopped quite a bit getting down to the river, and the shadows were beginning to lengthen. We had to criss cross the river, and the next 10km could really take anything from 30 minutes to 3 hours. I made sure of counting the river crossings, and after about the third the going got a lot easier and there was still daylight left when I got to the camp site and back onto the road. It was easy to get through the game fence as it had been conveniently left unlocked for us. Finding the actual support station turned to be a mission of note, as the directions were a mess and I was not the first who had gone further up the road and asked a home. Never fun doing extra km and time when you think you're done.

in the valley
crossing number 8

The house was quite cosy as the boys had got the fire cracking. Unfortunately we were a bit overbooked and there was a bed shortage. The camera boys were bottom of the pile, but I felt really bad when andrew and matt ended up on the floor too. Race control had said that the farmers were planning on riding through to Cambria as well. We severely doubted they'd try the rivers in the dark, but things would get very cosy if they did! The general (and respected) rule is first come first served. It gets funny when guys try hedge their bets against keeping a room to themselves, and then the later cyclists start filling the beds up. Worst case scenario – you get a snorer. Sirk and I were happy rooming together, maybe just for the fact that we both knew neither of us snored!

Rest day?whatever – put that profile in front of most hardcore mtb riders and they will cough on their energy drink. Tell them they're carrying a 8kg pack, and also having to carry it up a fairly steep hill and you'll see some excuse coming. It was just an easier day, compared to some of the other hard ones. We demolished the food and desert, and then straight to bed in anticipation for an......early start. Tomorrow was a killer of a day, Transbaviaans backwards/uphill (well 170km of it). If that doesn't keep you awake at night, nothing will.

Bucklands to Cambria- ~2631m of climbing

72km 9 hours door to door

Day 12

2008-08-06T23:52:00.000-07:00

shale road riding

There were two distinct groups leaving that morning, the racing snakes and the farmers. Despite that we left as one large bunch in the all too familiar darkness. Try as we might, the farmers (I joined the snakes being a city boy) didn't fall far behind and after an hour we came to a confusing section at a farmhouse and tried to work out which path was the correct one. Eventually we knocked on the door, only to find that it was actually the owners of the Vandeventerskraal house we'd spent the previous night at. The wily farmers had also arranged a full course breakfast for themselves, which we duly gatecrashed. Well some of the guys had remembered their manners, but I knew by now that when there's food on the table you eat first and worry about any consequences later. We did leave some bacon and eggs behind for the farmers to enjoy 'their' spread, that was probably a good thing as the terrain was pretty rugged, and our day's plan involved about 60km more riding.

The road was mostly cleared shale rock and it was quite odd to see how quickly the countryside had changed. Soon enough we were drifting through a lost valley (complete with requisite abandoned farmhouse) and the ensuing descent through the poort brought us to a solid game fence. The directions told us to crawl under it in the riverbed, of course that was misguided advice as that path had been well blocked off. The 3m high electric fence was remarkably silent, and Sirk had scaled it before we drew straws. With teamwork of four people it wasn't long before we were passed, and we were all grateful not to be tackling it alone.

can't go under
let's try over

Before long we were on the short road to brunch but the heavens opened to remind us that there are no easy days here for complacent minds and we arrived at Toekomst with muddy faces and backs from all the wheel spray. After all we'd seen and experienced in the previous two weeks, nothing had prepared me for this homestead. It's a large and impressive red brick building, and its easy to see that the country's insatiable thirst for red meat pays this cattle farmer's bills nicely! For the second day running we were at the first stop by 11am and happy with a morning's hard work. We fell victim to the splendid hospitality again, and I for one overindulged on the impressive meal (don't think liver is on the recommended diet of most elite cyclists!).

The race director had joined us for lunch, and we got the inside track on the progress of the rest of the race. As expected the group 1 boys were only about five hours ahead of us and if we put our heads down we should catch them up that night at Bucklands. Tim James had been riding like a demon and was heading for Willowmore that evening. Due to the backtrack east involved in entering the Baviaanskloof it was close enough for the video crew to intercept him there, but we were unlikely to see him again before Paarl. In the four and a bit days since I shook his hand at Stormfontein and wished him good luck, he'd opened up a gap of two days solid riding. Riding that long and hard, he's on course to obliterate the record.

With Toekomst a thing of the past we moved down to the adjoining Darlington dam and fell prey to a terrible mix up in communications. The map said go east around the dam, the narrative said double check with the farmer. Some of the guys had been told the route and it involved a soon to be unlocked gate somewhere. The one word I never heard was West. So we took the worst route possible, the kind Kingsley Holgate tracks down for Captain Morgan adverts and landcruiser funerals. We hugged the east shore on bumpy dried dam floor and then hit mud in quantity and quality not yet experienced. So much for the karoo and the kzn midlands not having much in common. It was manageable till we had to cross a slow flowing tributary. Forget mountain biking, we now had to wade through that wouldn't be out of place in willy wonka's chocolate factory. Sirk got bogged down first and directed me to try further up. Matt did his best to hurdle the river lower down and landed knee deep. I had some good going on my second attempt, but then slipped so deep it got desperate. I was up to my waist, and had to use the bike (down to hub level itself) just to pull myself across. If a shoe came off now, you could kiss it goodbye. Somehow I saw the humour in the situation and stopped for a selfportrait photo but it got very close to helplessly phoning for rescue!

mud wrestling

Sirk took this gap to charge off on his own (for the third straight day, a quirky habit indeed) but we found his calling card at the bizarre Darlington Dam Lodge. This hotel of sorts was dead empty on a saturday afternoon in school holidays, and Sirk had washed himself in the hotel pool – the everpresent mud was all too obvious. Being younger metrosexuals we chose to keep the mudpack to replenish our skin that had taken such a beating in the race so far.

mud saps energy
look at the spa treatment
where's my sense of humour

By the time we had gotten properly onto the route and found a viewpoint ovelooking the damwall could we actually comprehend the silly route just taken. We'd lost a lot of time, and the energy sapped was all wasted in vain. What other choice but to grin, bear it and push on? At least we had some kickass photos. We then got off our very nice road and over the hill to the aptly named 'valley of isolation'. The hard day had taken its toll and the spirits were floundering amongst us, we were hardly comforted by the comment that the track would be improving. It was odd, as we hadn't seen a soul since leaving Toekomst quite a while back and on arriving at some SANparks cottages there were only Kudus hanging to dry – not even any flies around.

more tough riding

It was late afternoon when we finally got to the turn off out of the valley. The oh so popular race director pulled up in a bakkie to laugh at our mudpacks, we could have started a skirmish but tiredness had set in and the surprise element was gone. We still had to decide between the alternative stop 14kms down the road or Bucklands about 50km past that. The decision was easily made by the next few kilometers winding through the Perdepoort, just a lovely kloof running through the mountains and done at a speed far too rapid to appreciate it fully.
another african sunset

It's important to break down the slog sections mentally into manageable chunks. These normally come at the end of a long day as nightfalls, and the mind wanders to rest and food. Sure we'd just turned both of those down and headed off on a road that seemed like it might spring some surprises in the dark. You also miss the scenery as your focus stays on that yellow blob 3m infront of the bike. I couldn't believe the basic setup Matt was surviving on, he had to follow Andrew down the hills just so he could see, my Myo XP was money well spent indeed, and new batteries got mine even brighter. I'd look into using these new Lithium disposable batteries as they hold their voltage much better over time.

We'd under prepared for water and hadn't found a place to fill since lunch (valley of isolation?), and stopped in at a weather beaten house for a quick refill. The whole extended family poured out and we became the new attraction for a few minutes. Another lovely encounter and always worth knocking on doors if the time or need allows.

We arrived at the Bucklands house and all was dark. That was because the front group had already gone to bed and the homeowners weren't even there! I had caught up to them for the second time now. Sirk showed us around and we polished off what remained of the dinner. Being a muddy muddy boy it was time to get clean, but I battled to get both the hot water and the washing machine working. There comes a point where sleep is way more important than cleanliness.

Vandeventerskraal to Bucklands via Toekomst- ~2141m of climbing
~163km, 15 hours door to door

Day 11

2008-07-31T23:32:00.000-07:00

ready for ackshin
sirk loots

andrew king

I got out of bed with renewed vigour. Sure I had slipped from 2nd to 5th place in one day, but I had some strong riders to hit the course with and the prospect of some fun times was evident. It wasn't even that cold for once as darkness slowly peeled to daylight. Before long we arrived at the first obstacle of the day, yet another valley dead end where the only forward was mostly up. The jeep track looked much better in real life than on the map and pretty soon the view back was worth stopping for. There came a split where the narrative and the map differed, and we elected to follow the text as we could see the saddle mentioned in it. A few days later, the comedy kings Errol and Carinus took this turn off and rode the whole day ending back up at their starting point, Rietfontein - that has got to hurt, and i can only imagine the language that night.
matt and andrew

we be chillin'

looking back

Even though they had started together in the same batch, the other three hadn't actually spent much riding in each other's company. Andrew sports the legendry #2 numberplate as he was one of the three pioneers of the first race in 2003. This time he'd roped his friend Matt in for the ride, who was more used to a rugby field than a bike but it was obvious he is quite a natural athlete and looked strong enough to go all day long. They were creating awareness for a charity close to their hearts – Walk for Peace. They seemed to like riding during the night, and didn't even stay at one of the allocated SS on the way to Rhodes. Sirk is good friends with the 2007 winner, Maarten van Dalsen, so we knew he'd have some secret race winning tips. He had made his charge a more calculated affair after slowly easing into the race. He was absolutely fearless to the point of insanity on the downhills.
on top of the world
it became a habit
boys still fixing bikes up there

I was feeling frisky and reached the saddle first, so got some great pictures in. We had some good high jinks after conquering the day's first and biggest bump, and on peering down into the abyss we were headed, decided that maybe Matt would need back brakes. Out came another set of brake pads, my V-brake setup had proved that to be a lot more reliable than hydraulics in general. It was indeed another really thrilling fling down. and we regrouped at the bottom to knock off the remaining km to lunch. 'put it in the big one' was the call for Matt to shift into his highest gear and we all did our best to hang on behind. We cruised the slightly undulating roads at an average I surely hadn't hit in the preceding week. Keep this up and the gap to the race leader would shrink by the hour, we dubbed our peleton 'the Tim James train' (I lost my ticket a few days later and got kicked off).
no budget for roadsigns in E.cape
chasing hard

The video crew appeared and soon we got to the station, for a solid meal of left over pasta and a plate towered with delicoious Kudu schnitzel (which was duly replaced when we scoffed it away). It was great to be having an early lunch at a spot we could have been sleeping at, it seems like a kilometer in the malutis is worth two in the Karoo. We'd been warned that the terrain coming up was quite rough, so got going west where we could see a sheer mountain and no sign of a path. The climb up was on a very rocky jeep track. I really enjoy these sections, where its a challenge to keep the bike upright and you end up spinning a low gear and concentrate on the line ahead. Of course its not much faster than walking, but that's not the point.

Once over the top we bid farewell to the TV crew (did I mention I had now joined the upper class with a Toyota Hilux bakkie intercepting our movements?!) and wound through yet another isolated valley. We were looking for another old farmhouse from more prosperous times that had been left derelict probably due to the hardships of ekeing out a living in a remote valley. Funny how city people even the balance by escaping to these places. I overshot the mark to the entrance of the Struishoek descent to scout out the other route indicated on the map. Either way it was dead straight down on a really rough hiking trail. The route had been well marked with white limewash, but it was painful walking down the steep rocky path. Most likely my worst 4km of the whole trail. To add insult to injury I picked up a nosebleed halfway down somehow. There's bar talk of building a downhill route here, lets hope it remains a dream, as I don't think Gregg Minnaar would touch that gradient without a 6 inch travel bike and a full face helmet.there's a kinda path there - struishoek descent

into the sunset

Sirk had bolted for home at the bottom (a familiar pattern, it seemed) and the three of us got into a rhythm of sorts on the decent road to Pearston. That road became tar, which is a godsend when it arrives in small portions. Pearston was my favourite dorpie right now, as the post office there had received my parcel and the farmer had picked it up earlier in the day (I hoped). We didn't actually even go into town, turning off just before it. For such a small settlement they definitely had a cellphone mast to be proud of and Andrew took full advantage to try do a bit of business on his handsfree kit!
bloody hell, not bad photo whilst riding(on tar)
I was losing pressure in my tyre somehow (slimed tubes??) and had to stop to change it with about 15km from the stop. I was quite glad that the boys waited for me, as it meant they weren't pushing all the way to Toekomst and I'd kinda joined the team (for now at least). The nav in the dark was a bit worrying as the distances between turnoffs were huge and markings not really making sense but when we saw a sign with an Eland and the rusty sign with Vandeventerskraal on it there was a collective cry of relief.

The farmhouse was once again a surplus building from a consolidated farm that was rented out to hunting parties and silly tourists like us. We had caught up with the farmers, but the other half of the group were only 50km up the road. The farmer had left us a meal, beer, koeksisters (which rapidly disappeared) and a package for me. I felt like a four year old at christmas as I opened up to reveal a new tyre, sealant, chain and shifter. I got settled on the fluffy carpet next to the fire and got my bike back to 100% working order. It had been a long day starting and finishing in darkness, and tomorrow would be more of the same so a tired body drifted straight to bed.

Rietfontein to Vandeventerskraal via Grootvlakte- ~2120m of climbing
~145km, 13 hours door to door

Day 10

2008-07-30T01:21:00.000-07:00

I woke up to the smell of frieds eggs, things had turned out quite nicely. I'd have liked to have made an early start as I was pretty sure the guys who made Elandsberg would be planning a double day and I had fallen off the pace. There would be more chasing from behind and my position in second place was now quite vulnerable. My sludge filled rear tyre had survived the previous night's bundu bashing but had flatted overnight. A sludge tube is nowhere nearly as puncture proof as a tubeless setup, and it seemed the luck had slowly leaked out.

After a quick chat with the farmer (and his reservations about our permission to be there in the first place), I decided to take the long way round to Elandsberg. I got there just before 10, about 15 hours later than I wanted, and was now about 4 hours behind the group. There was a report (incorrect) that the chasing bunch was already at Hofmeyr, putting me only half a day ahead of them. I decided to take an easy day and hopefully arrive at Rietfontein in the early afternoon and rest up. I could continue the charge from tomorrow.

Brunch wolfed down, it was time to get out of there before the rest arrived. The riding was relatively easy and before long I had knocked off a fair portion of the day's riding. We crossed over the Fish River, which should really be the reclassified as a stream, and then the N10. I stopped in at a farmstall (very hard to give these a skip when they come by) and a 150kg 20 year old sorted me out with some good biltong.

game fences

I had some time to think about the previous night's antics and where I went wrong. It was irritating to find the rest of the map and I still wondered why I hadn't looked for it at all in the first place. I also came to the obvious conclusion that the 'flashing' light was most likely my own superbright headlamp reflecting off a water tower or similar structure. That made me feel really stupid.

puncture fixing in a game area

The next section went through a game farm, and passing some farmers I was warned about the Rhino! I hadn't got far when I got the sagging feeling from my rear tyre. Time to find some shade and give that sludge tyre another bash between sarmies. I've never really used them, and couldn't understand why it would hold its air and only lose to pressure 500m down the road. After much frustration with my terribly inadequate mini pump I got to a farm and pulled in to fix the tyre properly. To my dismay, the race crew had been waiting for me and with all my stopping I had missed an extensive lunch spread. Much joking about my shenanigans the previous night too.
our stop from afar
time to rest
The afternoon dragged on and I just couldn't knock these easy kms off. I got to Rietfontein with not much daylight left and put my feet up as it looked like we'd landed in luxury. It's a game lodge that caters mainly for overseas hunters who pay BIG money for their holidays. The owner couple Roy and Jenny where quite special. Jenny got me sorted, but really reminded me of a Herschel mother the way she went on about the tribulations of the race logistics. Roy is a true old salt hunter and possesses the dirtiest mouth i've heard in a while! They said he could sort me out with a decent pump when he was back from riding. When I first met him, I couldn't believe he was also a biker – it turned out he was riding horses and wouldn't be seen dead on two wheels and no motor!

mounted Rhino

By the time Sirk Loots (start batch 3) rolled in after dark I had chilled enough to be doing some bike tlc next to the fire. It was an awesome dining room/bar/ with every animal possible mounted on the walls. He'd had a 200km day and didn't really have the patience for the incessant ordering. His remark of “as sy nie vinnig stilbly nie, gaan sy ook op die muur hang” made my day. I'd made my way through some bar stock and was getting nicely into the Euro 2008 semifinal with Roy when the next riders arrived. Matt and Andrew( also start batch 3) were doing the race for their chosen charity and looked really swish in their matching kit and helmet cams. They'd done some serious night hours since the start but looked fresh and strong. I liked the look of these riders and was confident we could overhaul the bunch I had just fell back from.

Speelmanskop to Rietfontein via Elandsberg- ~1000m of climbing
~90km, 9 hours door to door

los*t and found

2008-07-29T04:44:00.000-07:00

So I’m an electrical engineer, and love fooling around with technology and gadgets in general. I’ve worked on a project where the GPS system was quite crucial. It’s one of the more amazing systems ever put together, and it’s actually rather affordable. Quite how the rf design engineers managed to squeeze all the high frequency electronics into such a small package is something I can only marvel at. It was only a matter of time before they squished them into cellphones and it looks like garmin has done the same with their watches.

When you add GPRS to GPS you end up confusing most people. What you get is a system that tells people where you are (and have been), as long as you have cellphone reception. That’s the beauty of the Sportstrack system - it’s simple, yet highly effective.

Another great little locally made product, in case of emergency we can push a magic button and a distress signal will be sent with current location. Just make sure you run into trouble within cellphone reception! It can operate on a very weak signal, so you might not be able to phone or sms, but the gprs data can get through.

It’s definitely one of the ironies of the race. I’ve told people it’s the same as some bush ranger tracking a leopard with a collar. You carry a GPS that to all intents and purposes is useless to you, might as well be a brick. A clever brick.

Day 9

2008-07-29T01:34:00.000-07:00

our heavensent hosts
I let the rest go ahead of me, as I still had a tyre to seat and I was at the farm best equipped to do that. If I incurred any time penalty for backtracking off the Stormberg the previous day, then this 8:30 start would probably qualify. The day started off through the farm and then leading up to a steep jeep track up and over the Aasvoelsberg. I made good time up the mountain, eager with the rest two hours up ahead.
go down there? the hofmeyr 100mile trail

The view from atop was once again beyond superbole, and plunged down a rough track that formed part of the Hofmeyer 100 Mile trail, a famous equestrian endurance event. I was buoyed by the feeling that my bike troubles from the last few days were passed and I could concentrate on charging up ahead on the trail again. The steep and rocky descent had other ideas for me, and I managed to tear a hole in the brand new tyre not even 500m down.

It was a terrible feeling when the setbacks just keep piling up, it's as if the whole world has conspired against you. My best idea right then was to sit down out of the wind and eat my lunch, a slab of chocolate and ponder the options. The just settled tubeless seal had broken too now that the tyre had no pressure, so the plan was to boot the tyre and put a tube in again. I also had low confidence in the tyre even making it down the hill (misguided, but heat of the moment thinking). The good thing about being near the top of the hill, was that signal was a close walk away. I got hold of Will from the previous night to discuss my local options, it turns out that the next town Hofmeyr was very basic and I should get something sent out from Cape Town. So it was code red to mobilise the back up team at home. Shopping list was a shifter, new tyre, more sealant, and whilst we're at it throw in another chain. If all goes to plan, then Pearston post office would have it the next day. A day quicker than I could get there.
crayzee descent

Well I did get down the hill, walking down the really rocky stuff. The road was fairly decent and I adjusted my goal for the day to try reach Hofmeyr. It was now noon and that was 65km on hopefully decent road. Then a familiar bakkie pulled into view further down the road. Will had sorted some sheep out and then loaded up some spares and driven round to help me out. So I picked up my old tyre as a spare backup and got the tyre rock hard with a decent floor pump (the compressor was on the back of the bakkie too!). I had to be insistent not to accept the kind offer of a lift to the top of the next hill. All too soon it was back on the road and I'm on my own again, enjoying a mad crazy downhill on one of those no name passes.

die PIENK ng kerk
For what seemed like the first time on the trip, I made really good time. On loooking at the day's profile it's obvious to see the flat section where the kays just flew passed and the clock hovered around 30km/h – really good going. I reached the drag into Hofmeyr just on 4, with a huge smile on my face...STEVE is in HOFMEYR. How I laughed. I couldn't resist the farmstall in town, to find out I wasn't the first patron to arrive by bike that day, but I was a bit behind the rest. That lamb pie and ginger beer was worth the day's ride (but apparently 'ons wag nog om die ander Steve te kom besoek'!).

Steve, Hofmeyr

I pushed on in the knowledge that I was risking a scratchy section in the dark if I didn't get motoring. The legs got me there with the sun low in the sky, and I checked out the abandoned farmhouse just incase disaster struck and then got going on the old wagon trail, 6km from the support station. As expected I had other bike tracks to help guide me and I could see the nek to get over. Once over that, the farmhouse lights would lead the way.

Just checking my backup accom plan

Cresting the nek, the light was getting dim, the track faint and no farmhouse or even lights in the next valley. There was a large group of trees in the distance which I headed for. The house must be in there, and my spirits soared when I rejoined a road with tracks on it. The trees turned out to be not hiding a house but just an empty dam. I realised that there was a second nek still to cross, but I'd follow this overgrown jeep track south to its logical conclusion.

Now in full darkness under a clear starry but moonless Karoo sky, I got worried when the track turned left and up toward the mountain but there were still bike tracks to follow. It was about here that I stopped thinking straight. I knew I had to in a southerly direction, and the 6 stars of the Southern Cross were now behind me. My map setup had eveything in A5 or smaller laminated sections, for the life of me I never switched to the second half of this detailed map – it was on my handlebars the entire time.

I stopped when the route went north for sure and petered out, but then to the west I could see a light. Finally humans! It was faint, but definitely there, I swung my hand in front of my headlamp and it flashed back. Turning my light to strobe mode, they signalled back, sometimes two lights coming back. It could only be the guys up ahead showing me the way. I figured it was about 2km away and I could get there quicker by backtracking on the road I'd been riding. I hadn't got far before I had a puncture on my good front wheel. What a time to run out of sealant! I did the ultimate MacGyver thing and got the ziploc bag that had the rescued sealant from my back tyre earlier in the day. and restocked through the valve core using a syringe. It lasted all the way home.

I quickly returned to the same spot as before, and the guys were still there flashing me, so I chose to bundu straight there instead following a star constellation for direction. It was pitch black, so I was surprised to climb up a small hill and down the other side and find nothing. I soldiered on through the veld for what seemed like hours with no luck. When I got to a massive donga, I crossed it knowing I was well and truly LOST and the phone had zero signal. I was a bit short on water, otherwise I might have bunked down immediately and even got a fire going. It's funny to analyze how you react in moments of despair, my situation was easy to handle as it wasn't too cold and rain was unlikely. I conveniently forgot about game farms and lions. What I wouldn't give for another of those Hofmeyr pies now, but I had stockpiled my daily chocolate slabs to a rapidly dwindling collection of three. I would get through this ordeal, 100g at a time.

The 4m deep, thron protected DONGA

The one thing in the background was a barking dog, it now became my beacon. Find the dog, find a farm. After a while I got onto a farm field of sorts and some roads so could even ride again. My ears led me to the dog, it was clearly from the workers cottages. I found the main buildings, three of them all well kept but unoccupied (and locked!). So it was with hat in hand that I eventually went back and knocked on the worker's door. He took a while to get up, as he's actually the only person living on the farm (Spes Bona, my latin's not that good) – the owners stay in Cradock and visit on week-ends. I came close to demanding a spot on his floor, but he sidestepped and sent me down the road to the next farm which had...people living on it. Well his 5km became 9, but those farm lightest were the brightest I saw all trip. I pulled into the first decent looking building and checked my watch 10:30pm. I'd traced a silly line with my GPS for a good four hours now, and seem to have provided entertainment for a few diehards. Luckily the inhabitants were awake, surprised of course. I'd knocked on the farm manager's door, he was very reluctant to let me in – but his wife was getting the kitchen going and talked him into it. At first I was irritated I hadn't gone to the owner, but on meeting him the next day I seemed to have made the right choice – he was quite alarmed by all the trespassing I had done with my veld stumblings. Back in the kitchen I got a decent cup of moerkoffie, some bread and a huge lambchop from the pile sitting in a frying pan. They had just hosted a large hunting party so had the beds to spare.

red is me!

Mike Woolnough sent me this, I had probably come within a km of being able to see the farm lights, ouch that hurts.
Blue is the correct route, i never saw that yellow line of the fence (crossed one earlier) and the orange star bottom corner is the support station!

I had a shower, and flopped onto probably the best mattress of the whole trip, when an hour earlier the likely outcome was a flat patch of grass. ZZZzzZZZzzz

Romansfontein to Speelmanskop - ~1600m of climbing
~120km, 14 hours door to door

And there was light

2008-07-24T03:35:00.000-07:00

One of the obvious features of holding the race in midwinter (is that a solstice I see in week1?!) is the cold weather and real possibility of riding in snow. Another factor that gets overlooked is that the days are short, nights are long. So if you want to ride big miles, take it easy or enjoy getting lost then you’ll need some way to see in the night.

I’ve done enough nightriding in Tokai to know that the theorem ‘there is no such thing as too much light’ holds true in those conditions. Out here on the trail things are a little different, and 600 lumens is a luxury not worth carrying. So what’s in my light kit?

The handlebar has a Blackburn quad road light. This baby never seems to run out, and is easy to remove during the day. It takes 4 AA disposable batteries. This snaps on only when necessary, and is really a back-up.

at the start, with batteries still on top

On my helmet is a brand spanking new Petzl Myo Xp, which takes 3 AA’s and has a brighter light than the quad, but a shorter battery life. This was a bit of a grudge buy as its one of the tried and tested lights on the market and it’s a brand with a great reputation. With the rapid way LED lighting technology is improving, I feel silly picking something that’s been around for two years.

Helmet lighting is quite important, firstly to see exactly where you going and secondly so you can read maps and speedometers in the dark. I feel I could get by with just the headlamp if needs be. I’ve chosen to run everything off AA batteries. None of this having to rely on rechargeables and a 220v plug in nonsense(chargers weigh too!). The camera has the same battery, and I could even end up switching batteries between photos in the day and lighting at night if desperate. A lot of headlamps run off AAA batteries, which are one of my pet hates. They are less efficient, much lower capacity yet surprisingly cost more.

Interestingly a lot of the headlamp electronic circuitry found in most of the top brands is actually designed in sunny South Africa. There’s a small but focussed company called Azoteq with a few of my friends on their payroll, all in a little dorpie called Paarl. (I remember hearing about that place somewhere).

Being an electronic engineer I’ve fooled around with homemade lights, and they can be done at a fraction of the cost. But I don’t really have the confidence to take their weatherproof and durability testing to the full. It’s nice to sit behind that CE label sometimes.

Day 8

2008-07-24T03:26:00.001-07:00

Just because a habit is hard to kick all were up bright and early and I pulled myself out of bed to join the chaingang once again. I'd steal a few extra minutes under the cosy duvet, using my (very necessary) achilles tendon stretches as a ruse. I hated the early mornings, and this was one of the dreariest. There was a bit of a new section and some riding across farm fields. Once again the mercury dipped into the negative and my brakes froze up, and to compound things we had a bit of a difference over what constituted a westerly track. Things got a bit heated (phew) and its a good thing no one listened to me, because I was wrong.sunrise, riders at bottom of photo

I quickly realised that my legs would not be joining the party today and I felt tired keeping up, so I hung back with the farmers when the group split after about two hours. We'd definitely moved into easier terrain, as the odometer rolled on with less effort and the hills just all crested with less sweat. We even got onto some tar (for 10 points - anyone know where the N6 goes?) for a brief while. The first group were just leaving as we arrived at the lunchstop, and we got treated to excellent soup for the umpteenth time. We also heard about Tim battling to find it in the dark, more reason to stay in bed when the sun goes down.
puddles still frozen

Fueled up the next spot was the Stormberg loop, an Anglo-Boer war battle site. The rest of the guys elected to give it a skip and shoot straight through to Molteno and visit the pharmacy, I took the green route turnoff alone (buoyed by passing a herd of Eland, the adopted animal/mascot for the route). Seems my luck ran dry pretty soon after that. I hadn't gone too far when my rear wheel made this terrible puncture noise of air escaping. Normally one spin of the wheel and Manny's does the magic quick fix. I spun in vain as only air came out till it went as flat as my spirits. I had just filled the tyre the previous night (a precaution I had planned to do twice during the trip). The worst thing you can do to a tubeless tyre is break the seal, but there was no other option.

The tyre was indeed bonedry, but all the sealant had seeped in a cricc-cross pattern following the threads of the tyre. I'd clearly ridden too far on a totally pap tyre and the entire sidewall had deteriorated. Unequivocally my own fault, and my risky decision not to carry a spare tyre was now biting me hard. Crisis management is an important skill in this game, as its very easy to lose the plot when the world is conspiring against you and the spirits are low. My best option was to pull out the cellphone. Not to call mom and cry, but I had loaded some music onto a memory card and it was time to play the blues. Delta blue to be exact, Oreo cookies if you know what I mean. Tube went in and we were 'On the Road again'. Now you have to realise I was now riding a scratchy path in the karoo with a tube and no tyre liners. So not even five minutes later I have another puncture to deal with. I switched tubes, but decided not to mess around further on this scratchy section and get to Molteno the easy way. This was off the race route, but I had to try get there during daytime to see the mechanic too and try see if we can get the shifter working. I might incur a time penalty, but the repair was more important to me.
the hub of Molteno

Well my route into Molteno was quite quick - maybe because I was chasing time, but probably because it went through the township. Big bummer was that the mechanic was not available and I'd have to try sort it out myself. Consolation was a pie and coke, hadn't seen a cafe for a very long time! The first group rolled into town just as I had finally worked out the right road out (took three attempts), luckily they had picked up some info about the accommodation from some tannie they bumped into and it was very different to the map. Of course I punctured again on leaving town and they went off ahead whilst I pulled out some tunes and threw Stu's spare tube in my tyre.
where's the time machine?

sunset and still on the saddle

Every now and then the support stations really kick ass. Romansfontein was one of the best. Will and Steph looked after us like kings, food was awesome, laundry was done and we had a real garage with tools to play with bikes. Will has done the Epic before, so knows his bikes. One of his friends Rudi de Wet happens to be a leading sports doctor and gave us a free consulation. So bike and body got fixed. We opened up the shifter and a whole chunk of plastic had cracked off. In a brilliant boer maak 'n plan involving drills and chicken wire (and a real boer), we got it working with 6 gears, which was a huge improvement. I also got a new tyre that was waiting for summer, to replace my deteriorated Larrsen TT. The Kenda Karma is a little bit lightweight, but with the use of the farm compressor I could go tubeless again.

the sneaky fix
The doc was another story, looks like an overuse injury to the achilles. Combination of so much walking in cycling shoes and long days in the saddle. Not going to stop the ride, but would have to be managed with anti inflammatories and some setup adjustments to reduce the load on the achilles. Once in cape town it's time to head to physio and start the recovery.

Stormfontein to Romansfontein – ~2000m
139 km, 13 hours door to door.

The Good Stuff

2008-07-23T05:28:00.000-07:00

There are two types of mountain bike riders. Those who ride tubeless, and those who will in some time in the future. Even non riders know that the ultimate riding curse is the puncture and resulting flat tyre (‘pap wiel’ will make sense even to our english viewers).

There are two types of tubeless setups. Tubeless specific rims with tubeless specific tyres, and the cheaper option of tubeless conversion strips. Both take the addition of latex sealant that rolls around inside the tyre.

There are two main types of punctures out there. The ‘thorn’ and the ‘snake bite’, tubeless almost gets rid of both.

The thorn will puncture your inner tube and air escapes. With the tubeless system you have some magic goo that just seals the hole. Magic it is indeed. I’ve ridden on weskus winefarms and pulled twenty thorns out of my tyre at the end of a ride, without having to stop once.

The snakebite is a puncture caused by the innertube getting squeezed between the tyre and the rim. It seems impossible with an inflated tyre, but it happens in rocky surfaces. It won’t happen with tubeless, because there is no tube! You might get what they call a ‘burp’ with a little bit of airloss but it won’t end your ride.

Many baulk at the initial cost of conversion to tubeless. It’s worth every cent in the long run. There are two main options – Stan’s no tubes (the original); and Joe’s no flat’s. The only maintenance cost is the addition of the liquid sealant. Fortunately now we don’t have to pay dollar prices for this, as a new product has come on the market.

Manny’s “the good stuff” is what’s rolling around in my tyres. For some reason all the tubeless stuff comes with a first name – go figure. You’ll find it in the corner of your local bike store (if not – demand it). It comes in a bottle resembling Alcolin Cold Glue without the sticker. Look for the sticker with the friendly face and legendry ‘stache on it. If rumours are to be believed, he mixes it in his garage. It’s passed my initial satisfactiory test and we’ll see how it holds up to 2300km.

I have no links for Manny's - just get it from your LBS.
Stans

Joe's no flats

Day 7

2008-07-23T05:12:00.000-07:00

terrible photo, but frost all around

I'd merged with quite a large group now, we had to actually count up the numbers before we started in the freezing cold outside. The ten of us left the warm and cozy lodge and headed down into the dark valley for the start of two portages. It's always a struggle trying to dress for the very cold, you walk out the door to the bleak outside temperature and try generate some body heat. If you have too much kit on then you get very hot very quickly. The windchill factor plays a huge role too, you overheat up a hill and then its brass monkey down the otherside. It’s also possible to have freezing hands and sweaty torso at the same time. Zips, roll up sleeves and easy to remove gloves all help.

barely rideable downhills

Well this morning was really cold as we got down into the valley, with that windchill doing its thing. First up my back brakes weren’t moving at all, I immediately thought it had something to do with yesterday’s crash. Then I couldn’t shift gears at the back either, but manually moving them they would stick. Then a freewheel went totally free and the cassette just spun. It took a while to work out that it was below freezing, and any moisture on your bike had FROZE solid. Someone had picked up -4 on their bike computer, definitely time to get back in bed. I’d obviously got some water ingress in my cables and would have to wait for it to warm up and thaw. That was fine, as we would be walking up the next portage very soon anyway.

Frost was all around as we trundled up the valley and the group spread out as the path steepened. There was a bit of nervous energy flying around, as the previous year saw some competitors doing great circles and doubling back here. With much haste we caught up with our today's tour guide (Tim) and did our best to find a way down the otherside.
still frozen, 3hrs into the day
It involved a lot of damned if you do, damned if you don't options but eventually we could stop walking the bikes down and actually ride again. We'd been going for two solid hours and it was still frosty. I now worked out that in the big chill i had broken my rear shifter. I was now down to one gear at the back, so I got my multi-tool out and chose a better one. This would give me three gears to play with. I'd survive on all but the gradual descents where the group would pull away and my legs would spin wildly.

MOOve cow
In the pause between the Loutebron and Bonthoek portages it became apparent that the group had split into two and we couldn't really wait for the 'farmers' so headed off to do our last really tough section for a while. Once again there was pushing, but not really much carrying for once as we followed another ridge straight up. On arriving at the nek, there was a definite feeling of achievement as a huge part of the challenge had been accomplished. We duly rewarded ourselves with lunch. It was great having Tim there, and I'll do my best to paraphrase what he said to us at that nek:
“if you look behind you, we can see all the mountains that we have been through and we all know how tough they were. If you now turn around and look at the road ahead, you can see that we enter the Karoo and the roads that will take us through it. From here the kilometers get easier and you can do days of big mileage”. After much munching and general picturing we left our 360' viewpoint and proceded to spend the next half hour looking for the way down. Danie managed to wipe and partially dislocate his shoulder. Being the tough bugger he is, he just shouldered soldiered on. We eventually found a mad trail mud avalanche path and walked down. Maybe the easy kilometers will start at the bottom rather (they did!).
looking back
looking forward

If we kept to a solid pace, it was quite possible we'd arrive at the support station in daylight (now there was an incentive, as that had only happened twice in a whole week). We'd started early and had only covered 21kms by lunch, if that's any indication of the terrain. I was taking a bit of strain trying to stay in the group (which was working quite well on the flats) but managed to hang in there and even jimmied it into a 6 speed with Cable tie use #1542(put cable tie round gear cable on downtube, and pull it over water bottle spout to change to a higher gear). We went over MacKay's Kop (couldn't find a sign board anywhere, sorry dave) and then I led everyone astray to the wrong farm road following two bike tracks. Funny that those two tracks were indeed our guys, and the right farmhouse was locked. Took us an hour till we eventually got it all sorted and I had managed in this time to ride on a really pap rear wheel, too lazy to pump it up so close to home. Tim had made the decision to push onto Brosterlea, 70km down the road, and was looking for anyone to join. We all shook our heads and this time he was gone for good, blazing a trail to Paarl – which was the next place I saw him.

ande he's gone

Stormfontein lodge is an abandoned farmhouse that has been done up for self catering guests. So for the second night in a row we had the place to ourselves and started attacking the fridge (supplies to last all 25 riders took a serious decimation from the first wave of 8). I had a few things to fix on the bike, number one priority being opening a trigger shifter to see what goes on inside. I was cautious, as there was the chance of hooking up with an experienced mechanic in Molteno the next day.

Rus de Winter to Stormfontein -
70km, 1768m altitude gain
10 hours door to door

Brrrrrrr......

2008-07-22T03:31:00.000-07:00

Well I live in cape town. People start moaning about the cold when winter hits us solid and the mercury drops to single digits – the DRAMA! How the hell do I train for some cold weather riding, and what should I even take?

Well this little gem came in the inbox a while ago. I’m not sure I’ll use any of pete’s tips. In fact I’m still not sure he isn’t just taking the piss. Just remember your Fahrenheit to Celsius conversions and you’ll see why.

Cold : greater than 15 degrees F
Very cold : 0 through 15 Degrees F
Extreme cold : -15 through 0 degrees F
Insane cold: below -15 degrees F

In the metric world that is
-9
-9 => -17
-17 => -26
-26

Who actually even leaves the house when it’s 26 below freezing?

Okay, maybe the one about the third sock.

he has put some pics up here too.

Day 6

2008-07-17T04:22:00.000-07:00

So I woke up a little late (probably 6am, all things relative here) and sauntered/trundled up the road to the main house and breakfast. All the R2R crowd were there and more questions about my biking career followed – fame and the spotlight when you're second on the leaderboard! Somehow I had lost a pair of cycling shorts (way back in Masakala it transpired) and hopefully would intersect them (well the bakkie they were in) somewhere on the route, but it was wet shorts for today! The group had about 90 minutes on me when I got on the road. I hadn't realised it but today was a little bit longer than I had hoped for so got into a nice steady rhythm from the start.

looking back in direction of Rhodes

The riding was totally different to what had come before, almost featureless and dare I say it . . flattish. At a junction after about 30km I came across the widely publicised 'fat farmers of the' umzimkulu valley taking a break on the roadside. I'd scrubbed away the timegap rather quickly and got going further up the road (note: now that I reflect on it, they must have been really chilling out that morning, as they rode like demons the rest of the time I was with them). The scenery got much more interesting down into the valley, even if it stretched from the narrative's 8 to the road's 18km. Stopping for a quick phone call, Oom Danie from Wellington pulled in right behind me. He'd conquered the Comrades and would prove to be no slouch on a bike either as he rode me into the ground with shocking regularity on the way to Paarl.

A very rude and nasty climb arrived and eventually we were peering into the next valley. And what a surprisingly beautiful valley it was. Danie and I shot down to the valley floor and kept an eye out for the farm where the possibility of lunch existed. I had the one in a million chance of a twig getting caught in my spokes and staying there, weaved between five of them and only rattling when I slowed down – never heard of that before, and a sure sign of things to come.
Oubaas' ride
Well lunch presented itself on a scale that would excite us to the genuine Karoo hospitality. Christo the farmer has a collection of at least a thousand caps nailed to his bar roof and we'd been warned to be wary of getting stuck here by this amorous family. Some heeded this warning to the point of not eating and riding on, but I personally got stuck into all the lasagne and mielie koekies I could handle whilst my shoes got cosy in the Aga oven. One could really chew the fat here all afternoon, but urgency was the overlying call as we still had 30km to get through before a tricky portage and subsequent descent that would be dangerous after dark.
the stunning Rytjiesvlakte
isolated farm down there
A little trip on tar brought us once again to a valley of 'just can't describe' splendour, the Rytjiesvlakte. I suffered the indignity of a wipeout at speed trying to negotiate a muddy corner and supermanned flat onto the ground. Having the camera bag on my waistbelt meant I landed flat on it. My 'brandnew before the trip' Canon A470 dusted itself off and worked without skipping a beat, but a large roastie remained on my stomach the whole trip home. This might also be the time I banged my right knee (which only really swelled once I stopped riding once finished – funny that).

yet another tafelberg miles from cape town

The rivers levels were all very high here, mostly flowing over the concrete causeways and we passed a bloated cow that must have drowned in the past 48 hours. We started hard up the portage mindful that any mistakes could put us fumbling around in the dark. We all seemed to split up, as there were many cattle paths up the valley and I suppose we all took the 'best' route as we converged at the saddle. Some of the farmers were lagging back, but we couldn't wait with darkness looming. We hiked most of the way down the otherside as it was pretty rough going down to a river crossing. We were now at an old abandoned farmstead and followed the track that would lead us out the valley. It was interesting winding up a river to the cul-de-sac of a valley and popping over into the next one to do the same but in reverse.
cresting the hike

abandoned farmhouse

The track improved the further we went (ie. went from a stream to a road), and we saw the farmhouse that had our support boxes. At this juncture I opened the gate for Danie and a grey rhebok popped over the fence and bounced and pronked away from us as we rode on. At some point he decided that he actually didn't want to go past the farmhouse and turned around to run past us with fences on either side. I thought little of it, as I just kept a straight line following Danie's wheel. The bokkie got very nervous as we approached and the next thing I noticed was him springing in the air clearing past Danie. The thing was that I was also behind Danie and he came into my view with no time to react as he came hurtling into my handlebars. I was stunned on the ground to the right, the bokkie was equally dazed behind me and Danie had turned around with his jaw almost hitting the floor. Well there was no blood and bokkie got up and hightailed it before we could swop insurance numbers. Danie picked me up and we both shook our heads in amazement. I was uninjured, the impact had bent my back brake lever hood (which I bent back that evening) and bokkie seemed alright. My map holder design had specifically been to have everything behind the bar so no bushes and trees would would damage it, this I had not been expecting! The poor guy lost some fur on my wheel, which I put into a ziploc bag for 'show and tell'.
traces of the hit and run
Rather stunned we picked up our goodies and headed on to our accomodation, and old farmhouse now run as a slef catering hunting lodge. We came in just after dark and the earlier guys had got a cracking fire going. It was good fun with the general banter from the day, and we'd caught back up to Tim who'd had a very adventurous trip to Doukrans falling into a freezing river at midnight and given himself a 'rest' day.

Rhodes to Rus de Winter
108km, 3216m altitude gain
9.5 hours door to door

Day 5

2008-07-15T01:31:00.000-07:00

Edina's house where i slept like a log

So I woke up with a mission, I had a spoke to replace and as murphy would have it, it was a drive side one. That means taking off your entire cassette (ie. the cogs). This is a huge schlep, and close to impossible in the field, but I had managed this during the first week, where tools for the R2R guys were handy. Located a cassette lock and a chain whip and we were in business. Tim did similar fixing to his brake pads and we set off from Vuvu at a sedate 10:30am. This was mainly due to our time penalty of 9:30, and the usual phaffing around. Maybe we were just a bit apprehesive over crossing Lehana's pass.

our trusty steeds full of mud
bike TLC, replacing a spoke

The big news of the morning was that the whole of Group 1 had really messed up the nav to Lehana. Instead of the third valley, they took the second. Ouch. And not even a shepherd on horseback with a note could turn them around. We expected to see them somewhere atop, if at all. We had been given a great day weather wise at least, with sunshine all around. There was a quick stop for an interview and then we tackled the morning's ordeal in earnest.

looking down into the start of Lehana's assault

Lehana's is an old shepherd's track and is the alternative to Naude's Nek. Either way it's our path over the Drakensberg. It's probably one of the hardest things I've ever done. My Achilles Tendons had also started to really hurt when walking, most likely from the amount of walking done in mtb shoes over the week. Think of climbing Table Mountain from the Castle with your bike on your back, but your starting point is Joburg altitude. It was a real grind, and the previous long day out and the altitude hurt me as I battled to keep up with Tim. The path followed the ridge line and altitude was quickly gained. After a while the bike on your back really starts to hurt the neck, and any opportunity to walk it along a flat section is most welcome.
looking back, probably 1/3 of the way

halfway up looking at the main buttress, we sneaked up across to the left

on top of the world

We stopped at the top shepherd's hut for a quick lunch with probably a quarter of the climb remaining. It was an amazing vista looking out into the distance and seeing the impossible terrain that we had somehow travelled through was food for the tired body. Crossing the actual peak was a huge disappointment, as we only headed round the precipice and then made our way down the other side. Tim was eager to get passed Rhodes and pushed on whilst I enjoyed the scenery a bit more. With the amount of recent rain, there were a few river crossings which resulted in very cold feet. The impossibly located 4 star Tenahead lodge was on the route and I popped in for a very well deserved cup of very awesome hot chocolate. Go have a look at it!

I forced myself to get a photo at Naude's Nek eastern summit itself, but hardly took a look out into the distance as it was freezing in the wind. I found a sheltered spot in the road and put on almost my entire wardrobe. After a brief downhill there was a nasty climb that topped out with the highest point of the route (~2600m). It was a breathtaking descent on the western side of the pass, 600m drop and endless hairpins. It's got to be one of the most significant stretches of road in the entire country, but very hard to stop and take photos when you are flying and racing sundown.

very cold in the wind up there

Pulling into Rhodes I had no clue as to our actual accommodation, but it wasn't hard to find as it's actually just a one horse town. It's quite a turning point in the entire journey, and I'd now caught up with the group ahead for good. For all the Ride to Rhodes entrants it is the end of their journey and friends and family arrive to see them in and spend the night (and also to come take them home).

I arrived to all these new faces, Tim saying goodbye as he had a fasttrack to Doukrans, and lots of questions about me. It seems I had built up a reputation somehow and there was even talk that I had a R1000 bet of making it in 16 days. I quickly dispelled that and explained that I was actually on holiday and planning on seeing the country.

I got billeted into an old house down the road, for the last time without electricity. I had my first bath (and last till montagu) in candlelight and only now realised how bad my Achilles Tendons were. They made a noise in the bath, and I could feel stuff that had never been there before as I flexed and contracted them. The good news was that it was really sore walking, but riding was manageable.

Soccer on tv just over the road was an opportunity too good to miss, so i popped into the Rhodes Hotel to cheer on my Dutchies against the Ruskies. I was wearing my sat night best – black polartec tights (read ballet pants) and stokies but the locals all knew what I was doing so I made a few friends quickly. Mark who had just done the R2R was the only other cyclist i saw there. As you might know it went into extra time, so i was up till late drinking milk stout and now know all about fly fishing (and that Rhodes has 28 permanent residents – their count)!
look at that climb!
Vuvu to Rhodes
50km, 2208m altitude gain
~7.5 hours

The big GM

2008-07-14T01:26:00.000-07:00

I’d actually never heard of Greg Minnaar when I arrived in Vail, Colorado for a ski season during a varsity break in 2001. I rode mountain bikes, but I didn’t even know we actually did downhill seriously in South Africa. The locals educated me very quickly, and have been a fan ever since. He was World Champion in 2003, and has consistently been on the podium since (when he’s not injured – comes with the territory).

I'm a total woos when it comes to this whole downhill stuff with massive drop-offs, gap jumps and rocks that must become boulders at 60km/h. I've sat the base of the Whistler (another year, another ski season) Gondola looking at the myriad of bouncy bouncy bikes around during the fringe switch from snow fun to forest mayhem, knowing the terrain that was being conquered. Downhillers are special bikers, and they have my full respect (even if I have to question the sanity of a few).

Maybe if downhill was an Olympic sport we would have heard the name Greg Minnaar just as much as Ryk and Roland. We can chuckle at the way his surname has been mispronounced just like Charlize Theron. He spends the fair amount of his time overseas on the pro circuit, but finds time to do training back home. The downhill crowd have a reputation for being lazy bikers who hitch rides to the top of the hill and generally put burger eating and beer drinking over physical training. Of course its an unfair generalization and the top riders are athletes in their own right. Greg himself has a Cape Epic under his belt. Word from the field is that he put the hammer down on the descents with riders crashing out trying to follow his lines at speed. There’s an urban legend he rode down one hill pulling a wheelie the whole way.

He rode a few years for the experimental Honda team. They took their motorcross bike expertise into downhill bikes, and despite success were never able to find a commercial market for the bikes. This year he’s joined the Santa Cruz stable, along with another downhill legend who just stays at the top after many years in the game – Steve Peat. They’re known as the Syndicate, and will be kicking ass at hills all year.

watch him calmly navigating the latest world champs course like he's driving the sishen-saldanha train

There's no time for recovery

2008-07-14T01:23:00.000-07:00

anyone get the hidden message in the title?

maybe this will help:
snow fun

oh yes i have another blog when i'm not racing across the country, and we didn't get much time on a pc this weekend as the sun came out. more stage reports to follow

CapeStorm

2008-07-11T06:39:00.001-07:00

“There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad equipment”

It’s a very popular quote, but I actually don’t know who it’s attributed to. What I do know, is that it is indeed very true. I intend proving it again, for once and for all.

Every year, riders on the FC have been hit by snow at some point. It’s pretty darn impossible preparing for this eventuality from the Cape, so it helps to follow the guru tips from previous years. The one item really missing from my wardrobe was a solid no nonsense winter riding jacket.

The CapeStorm Monsoon came recommended, but right next to it was the new improved Vantage. This is one seriously sexy piece of equipment. It’s waterproof and breathable; has zips and pockets in all the right places and the all important hood area is well thought out (I think, we’ll see for good this June). They actually claimed it lightweight at 450g, which is incorrect – my medium size tipped the ‘don’t breath on me because I’ll notice’ scale at just 400.

So who’s this CapeStorm crowd then? World class adventure apparel, made right here in sunny South Africa. Well mostly made here, definitely designed here. You might gulp at some of the premium prices but they are worth every cent. Go and compare to imported goods in the same class and you’ll see why we’re as Proudly South African as they are.

Day 4

2008-07-11T01:30:00.000-07:00

Feel like a TdF champ
“Steve! I'm awake and going now, you want to come?”

Not exactly a cuckoo clock is it, but that's how I woke up in Masakala. The plan was to start riding at 6, we were now getting ready and it was just passed 4. No rest for the racing. The idea was to do the short stretch to Malekhonyane before lunch and then push on all the way to Vuvu and join up with group 1.

Luckily it wasn't too cold, but it was dark indeed when we got going. After some more soccer field skirting we got onto a dirt road. Clearly this Tim guy was good at recovery as I was battling to stay on his wheel now. I was redlining it for a few kays but could see something was wrong when I realised we weren't going particularly fast. In clearing some mud off, I had dislodged my brake spring, and basically had my front brake half on. At least now I knew why I was suffering for 5 kays!

Malekhonyane Lodge - beautiful

good toyota advert

The early section followed some cattle paths across the floodplains, some of the best riding they said – as long as its not in flood - oh well. Well we managed to escape a thunderstorm without too much damage and pulled up to Malekhonyane (and it is high up) by 10am. If I followed my prerace plan of 1 stage a day till Rhodes, then I could chill out here all afternoon. Instead we were off and starting the big day to Vuvu.

not the best way to come down a hill
looks rideable!

It's a lovely little sidetrack to the black fountain section where the isolation is obvious. There is a store up there for some inane reason, closed made more sense. Then we followed what can only be described as a rough hiking trail down, passing horsemen with shaking heads. We had been dodging rainstorms all day, but got properly wet now.

next santa cruz campaign

time for lunch#2
By the time we hit the bottom and civilisation it was too hard not to pop in at the next little store. We spent a while there, having been on the go for almost 12 hours. 2 rounds of cokes, biscuits, chips and a whole lot of staring. We had a good chat with the owner as the entire horde of kids offloaded his supplies from the bakkie. He holds down a pharmacy job in pretoria and runs this store a weekly 8 hour bus trip away, amazing to see ambition and desire in its purest form.

she just had to ride!

By the time we crossed the swollen river at the Tinana mission the shadows were long, and in hindsight we probably should have stopped there for the night. We pushed on through a really muddy section and got to the 'river singletrack' in the dark. This was just 13km from the end of a really long day, but the locals said that the rivers were too high and the other bikers had taken 'the road'. Tim wasn't keen to do this option, but 26km by road can't be that bad?

Well those 26km took us 4 hours, it went straight up and out the valley in a massive climb. It's hard to do big hills in the dark as you have no idea where you are. We managed to contact race organiser halfway up, only to hear we'd get a time penalty for not following the route. Too bad. At the top we hit some gooey mud. Chocolate Mousse stuff, that was impossible to clean off. I carried my bike through it, and figured with only 7km to go I could walk to the finish/ride the downhills without doing too much damage to the drivetrain. Tim had gone ahead and a bit later the familiar site of a Toyota bakkie perched up the hill greeted me. David had a huge smile on his face, looking at me sukkeling in the dark. To add further insult to injury, I broke a spoke about 2km from the end (crossing the river??).

It was a late finish indeed as I pulled into the Vuvu school hall(why can't all SS have a cell phone mast next to them?!). Food was waiting, shower was rigged up outside and all wanted to hear the stories. By 'all' I mean race support crew, as the whole of Group 1 were already asleep in bed.

I got billeted with David that night, Edina came to walk us to her house (stopping on the way to pick up a grandchild) where we got the best beds in the main room. Oh how well I slept under those blankets!

Maskala to Malekhonyane
56 dkm, 604m altitude gain
~5hrs trip time

Malekhonyane to Vuvu
89dkm, >3000m altitude gain
~11hrs trip time

Day 3

2008-07-09T07:27:00.001-07:00

The third stage would be a little shorter, and I chose to sleep in a bit and rather catch up to the main group on the way. To my surprise Tim James had started in the batch a day behind us and done the two stages in one go and caught us up in the night. Well he was keen to do two more today as it was an 'easy double up', and was more than happy to have me as riding company. AND we're racing baby!

Grev tracks us down

Well it was an absolute pleasure riding with Tim. At first I was a bit nervous as he had quite a reputation and aura about him. He'd come second the preceding year and had done his homework well on many sections of the route and didn't even carry maps! He clearly sensed my apprehension and did tell me he wouldn't leave me behind. The riding was great, crossing over the wet and mushy grass covered valley through some dramatic hilly farms. We reeled in the hour headstart before the soup stop and hit off the front alone – easy when you don't stop to stare at a map (I didn't even have the right one out by now).

the single track section

There was a bit of a communication mess with us all missing the lunch stop, and Greville gave us the option of turn around or take what's in the van. Easy option, and he caught up later with some lovely soup in a flask anyway. We were eating up the decent roads for now before heading down into the 'knira river singletrack section'. It was a lovely little route through the valley that cut out a horrible road (that the R2R guys chose to do, leapfrogging us). There were a few murmurs about this section from the back of the field, the nav was really quite easy with its course designer riding with me!

CHEESE!

We slogged up another hill to a welcome Coke break at a little trading store. By now the crazy last 30 hours had taken its toll on Tim, and a double up was unlikely. We rejoined the other route and picked our way down into the valley that would take us to Matatiele and our next stop, Masakala. There was a path of sorts straight across the plain and we found a way through it. We arrived in good time to find the R2R guys had indeed gained on us and were on the sunny porch with coffee. Tim headed straight for a nap and I chose to use the daylight to properly clean the neglected bike.

the plain to Matat

It was a lovely community stop in the middle of the village with a main house and a few rondavels scattered about. The stew got removed from the pot in quick time as we were all in the routine of ride,eat, ride. Tim was planning an early start to try and get all the way to Vuvu, I said I'd think about it!

the welcoming commitee

Day 3 – Ntsikeni – Masakala 86dkm/2059m altitude gain
7.30 - ~3pm – total 7.5hrs

Day 2

2008-07-09T01:20:00.001-07:00

So we had an option on Day2 from the start, either head through a shortcut on the farm fields or take a longer route back out past the Mackenzie Club on dirt road. The fact that the farmer himself Ian Waddilove chose the route B the day before meant it was probably not a shortcut in timing at least. We followed a great road through to the village of Donnybrook and helped ourselves to the best the Spar bakery had to offer.

mud
glorious mud

Pretty soon we were back in forest, and it started. Not the rain, that was looking like lifting for now, but it was the beginning of hours of a different grief in the next week – the dreaded mud. Short of sounding like a wet dishcloth I think I had it worse than most. My fork has minimal tyre clearance and V-brakes by nature are also built close to the tyre. So pretty soon mud had collected in grapefruit size clumps, and it was well bound by grass pieces. I had little option but to walk, as a brand new drivetrain would deteriorate pretty badly with more sand than chain on it. No point in rushing as the bike has to be looked after to get you to Paarl. We found a fast flowing stream at the bottom of the hill later and got stuck into some industrial strength cleaning. Probably took us about 45 minutes but time well spent.

traffic jam

Unfortunately we caught up to the group easier than expected. They had taken a track just a fraction too early and gone on a wild goose chase par excellence. Silly us followed their tracks. So we got to Centacow mission and the lunch stop quite embarrassed and a little behind schedule. This was one of the 24 missions set up by the silent order of Trappist monks in the early 20th century, pity we couldn't see inside as the priests were also on lunch. There was a researcher there, who said they were trying to market it to the adventure tourism sector but it sounded like the freedom challenge is still their main target crowd for now.

beauty

Lunch was quickly swallowed and shock to the system followed with another hill from the moerse family. I gapped it and pulled down the other side with a healthy cushion. That faded as I did circles round the village trying to find the route down the cliff and over the river. Eventually they all caught up again and we got some local knowledge from some zulu speakers. More scratching around in the next forest and we finally got to the next nek with light fading rapidly.

the "little" road up to Ntsikeni lodge

It seemed that with just 20km to go I might even make it before dark so I pulled away again. I underestimated the final stretch considerably. It was gargantuan, and involved scaling another mountain. I even picked the wrong road through the village somehow and had to portage up to the right one..that hurts the lungs especially! In the thick mist it got spooky up top. The narrative wasn't making sense either and it looked like we the kilometers on my odometer were lying. I was quite relieved when four of the guys caught up with me at the fence. We soldiered on together and even got Cosmo the local to show us the path. It was with massive relief that the lodge came into view in the darkness. Another big day under the belt, I chose to get a quick nap in whilst the rest filtered in.

Day 2 – Allendale – Ntsikeni 98dkm - 2985m altitude gain
6am - ~7pm, 13hours total
sting in the tail

which way is north?

2008-07-09T01:17:00.000-07:00

So maps are crucial here. I claim to be a bit of an outdoor fundi and have some boy scouts training. You’ll see me knocking around at local orienteering events and the odd adventure race. But never across the whole country.

Maps are crucial. Mess up your maps and you get lost. Get lucky if you want to make it to Paarl before august. The main thinking is to have them available, put them in your pocket and you’ll get lazy reading them and go on instinct. Get lucky if you want to make it to Paarl before August. I went a bit wild on my map system.

purrfect

All maps are laminated. That’s a mission, especially when the first laminator you lay your hands on is broken. It’s hard to mess them up, and you can even write on them too. They’re also broken up into much smaller sections, giving a little sense of achievement each time you run off from one to the other. There are overlaps in sections with magnified scales of the scratchy bits, but there’s probably about 140 maps for me to get through. I’ve sent each section to the preceding support station. This does mean if I plan to double up any days, I can only properly plan the bit to the first station and go on memory for the second bit till I get there. Could be a recipe for disaster.

The maps themselves sit on a map board/holder. Now all adventure racers will know that map holders is a topic of endless theories and discussions. Lots of things work, many better than others.

I’ve gone with corrugate plastic boards – the stuff that estate agents use to sell houses (thanks Cape Coastal). This is then cable tied to the handle bar and is loose at the other end. This allows me to klap it inadvertently with my knee with out breaking it. It’s also fairly protected by the handlebar from any branches/fynbos. My other brilliant but mostly untested idea is to use hairclips to hold the maps down. Elastic bands just don’t work. These hairclips slot into the grooves of the plastic and have been epoxied in. Laminated maps (and route description narratives) slot in no problems and stay there too. I have spare map boards waiting for me along the way.

If all fails I do have a spare waterproof mapholder that sits round your neck. Let’s hope I don’t use it before Stettyns.

Day 1

2008-07-08T23:25:00.000-07:00

The good thing about bunking with sheep farmers is that my wake-up call was right on time. 4am is considered lying in, so they were bright eyed and raring to go. The smacktalk was good round the breakfast table, everyone doing their best to cram as much in as possible.

raring to go

We got going to city hall (apparently the largest brick structure in the southern hemisphere) in a neat little train, Louis was very proud to show off a map holder that had more pvc downpiping than my house. Much fanfare round the start with cameras flashing and all of a sudden we were off. I remembered to reset the odometer, but forgot to switch on the tracker in the melee.

outside the hall

It was soon apparent that there were no real racers in this group as we slunk off to Bisley Nature Reserve in a group and then hit the trail for real. A few people thought I was a R2R entrant as some of the RASA guys really had brought the kitchen sink. I think Jaco and Carl had about 14kgs on their backs. I was having enough of a battle with my ~8kgs thank you. The absolutely clear skies of the last few days were long gone and rain would come, not if but when. We regrouped at the major turn off to the Minerva forest. I’d had enough of hanging around and got going whilst the rest changed all their kit.

welcome break from the rain
It was a nice steady climb through the forest, and I emerged on top alone with the rain starting to come down steadily. It didn’t stop for the next 12 hours. A quick up and over the main hill and we got treated to warm soup and coffee in a tractor shed/railway bar. I can only imagine the view from the porch, as all we had was grey.

hung out to dry
We set out en masse and klapped down the first of many extended downhills. It was great having Quentin and Rohan in the group as they'd done R2R and RASA the year before and it showed. Somehow 15 kept together over the next few stretches of soccer field, river and forest sections. Soon we were back into a long forest drag uphill and it spread out again. We learnt how to deal with cows in the path and popped out the other side to another long drag down into the depths of the Umkomaas valley. Picking through the road in the wet, your eyes just picked up the flying mud and rain mix and it was the welcome sight of Greville setting up the gas stove at the river bridge to these battered eyes.
Shane after his 'no rain today' prediction

There was a murmur about a moerse hill coming up next amidst all the photo taking and bravado. Most of the group chose to skip the hot chocolate wait and start up in earnest. I got my sugar and rusk fix and chased them down, eager to get the last twenty kays done and move indoors. The climb was indeed of the moerse category, probably 600m gain in 9km. I think it was Kipling who described the grass covered hills as beautiful beyond singing of them, but he must have had sunshine that day as it was nothing but a slog to us. Allendale farm, our overnight stop, eventually came into view and I pulled in a bit ahead of the rest to the first cookie, soup, sarmie, coffee, bath – everything. Would I be pushing on? pffft! It may be a race, but its a holiday too. I got put into a gorgeous little cottage overlooking the lake, and got busy with a fire to warm and dry our bodies and clothes over boer maak 'n plan drying racks. To my horror fine grit had got into my cycling pants somehow (osmosis?) and my three week battle against the inevitable saddle sores started on the back foot.

When I say it rained, it actually poured. We'd find out later that the same system put Port Shepstone under water a few hours south of us. Once you're wet, you're wet and it doesn't get too cold if you keep moving (except for my poor little useless fingers – waterproof gloves next time!). It does however result in wind coming from all sorts of directions and you end up carrying extra kilograms which is no fun up monster hills. Greville said we'd probably just gone through the toughest first day ever – nice.

We got our first taste of the wonderful hospitality that night; with food, drink and laundry going into overdrive. Of course there were many warstories already, especially with some stragglers pulling in after dark. Jaco and Louis were both carrying injuries coming into the race and took it slow, really slow. Would they recover for another big day tomorrow?There was the issue of the 'final dump', where you are allowed to leave whatever you want behind and it'll get taken to the finish for you (after that, anything you don't want you kiss goodbye). I must have planned well as I left nothing.

Day 1 – Pietermaritzburg – Allendale 101dkm, 3629m altitude gain
6am - ~3pm; total 9 hours

The final preparations

2008-07-08T01:24:00.000-07:00

So the Freedom Challenge starts the day after the Comrades Marathon. That also appears to be the same day all the runners book their flights for the next year. Even with three months notice, you just can’t get a flight that week-end into Durbs. Short of chartering a plane, or [shudder] taking a bus, I chose to arrive a few days early.

It was a blessing in disguise, as I could leave all of my Cape Town distractions (I still had builders at my house the day I left!) behind and concentrate on the race itself. Having my good friend Dr Kenneth holed up in Kokstad, I rocked up on the Thursday ready for some cold weather shakedown riding and general country chilling before the Tuesday start.

Now before we start with the Dick City jeering, it’s a lovely spot. And the fillet is R70/kg. I got down with all my final tinkering, saw the sights and we even went to Port Edward for the Sardine Run festival MTB race. I did the 45km route and turned some heads with my full pack. This is Burry Stander country and he has a big fanclub. It was a brilliantly marked course going through all sorts of terrain. Natural forest, cane fields, river gorges etc. The highlight was the final 8km of manicured single track through the Clearwater trails. We went from this breathtaking Gorge view to beautifully built berm after berm. All three routes came together, and it was brilliant to see the fearless sprogs caning it down the hills. Unfortunately I dinged a pedal on a rock on one of these downhills, despair turned to good fortune as one of the local Kokstad guys had an unused brand new set that came off his new bike. I put it down to a freak occurrence. I also realized that my middle blade was far too saw toothed for the race, and would have to sort that out in maritzburg.

To the pre race function itself, there was a fair amount of tension around as everyone had final things to do. Two of the guys were carrying big injuries, and Jaco only got on the bike that day with a six week old broken collarbone. The race number handout was good fun and we got our toys like the GPS trackers. Greville (our ‘guardian’ to Rhodes) leant me one of the Toyota Quantums so I could go to Jowetts bike store who opened especially for me and put some new XTR on my crankset.

I shared a unit with two legend Barkley East farmers, much joking about how they struggled to fit their kit into their 110l Ride to Rhodes plastic bins and me into my 30l bag. It was with much trepidation that I retired to bed, not much more to do than just sleep and rest before the 4am wakeup.

And We're back!

2008-07-08T01:20:00.000-07:00

ok, so we're prototyping a time machine here.

It was really hard to update from the road; combination of poor planning, signal dark zones and general tiredness.

SOOOOOOOOOO, i'm going to relive the whole thing here. again! Definitely cheapest way to do it again. Of course it will feel odd with the past/present tense, but just pretend like it's happening realtime.

So what’s in the knapsack?

2008-07-03T01:45:00.000-07:00

Lets go from head to toe:

Diesel woollen knit beanie – for extreme cold/evenings
first Ascent skullcap – under the helmet to keep the heat in
first Ascent earwarmers – to keep the wings from freezing
Cape Storm Vantage jacket – when it’s insane cold
Cape Storm Reactor jacket – overkill maybe, but its warm and will be needed in evenings when not riding.
first Ascent Alp d’Huez jacket – light weight outer shell, with removable arms for the more sensible days
CapeStorm Puffader midlayer – maybe even taking too, it’s entropy fabric which is textile talk for warm but light. Might even be taking two.
CapeStorm riding shirts (I forget the names, one short sleeve, one sleeveless)
Anatomic arm warmers – the fleecy lined ones
Cotton knit glove inners
Some nameless motorcross full finger gloves
Cyclogel padded windproof gloves
Rapid Sports polyropylene base shirt – warm or cool when required.
first Ascent flashflood rainpants. – to keep the legs dry when its wet
first Ascent Endurance bibshorts (two for alternate days)
first Ascent leg warmers – with reflective strips for the ‘traffic’
first Ascent polartec tights
falke MTB socks
Diadora Jalapeno mtb shoes
Anatomic fleece lined shoe covers – because you gotta keep toes thawed out.

So you can see my upper body is pretty much covered by CapeStorm, and my legs by first Ascent. I think I’ll be okay, but if I get stuck outside then there’s two space blankets and a whole lot of jumping around.

I’ve squeezed a whole bunch of old t-shirts and socks into my 2l boxes for evenings, and there’s a pair of old style stokies for walking around too.

Premature! For who?

2008-07-02T00:32:00.000-07:00

With Stevie Wonder finally having broken his silence treaty last night, it appears the boy has been riding hard. All be it with a 3 speed bike and painful achilles. Now that he has received the much needed parts to repair his trusty steed, he is planning on utilizing all 27 gears to double up on stages in an attempt to finish this mammoth challenge on Saturday.

Boegs is hoping to free wheel into Ashanti this Saturday afternoon, so rally up the troops and get there to welcome Buffoon number one home. Bring your own blanket thou...

Sho left, va right

2008-07-01T05:13:00.001-07:00

The route designer of the Cape Epic, Leon Evans, is notoriously known for his efforts/sins as “Dr Evil”. For many people it’s just because he puts 800km of offroad riding into 7 days, for most it’s the way he does it. Picking ‘interesting’ routes and sometimes throwing in a phantom loop close to the finishing line. Navigation is not an issue here and the whole course is marked (extremely well I hear). His son Kevin is one of the top local riders too, and he’s quite a character on the bike scene.

The route put together for the FC is a totally different scenario. Race director/route designer David Waddilove is a character himself and has grown this silly little idea of his into quite a monster too. It was a while before I found the real history of the route, but the short history is that he ran it first. This was sandwiched in between the Two Oceans ultra marathon and the Comrades. Most people prefer to fly, or drive at a push.

Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea, as the next year he retraced his steps in reverse on a bike, just in time for the Berg River Canoe Marathon. It’s stuck to that format ever since (despite internet forum plans of swims to robben island/crosscountry-skiing in Lesotho/surfskiing the north coast et al cropping up).

The route itself is established but does change slightly as situations develop. The one major route adjustment this year was due to the electrification of the Mountain Zebra National Park fence. Now we go ever so close, but around it.

About six weeks before the race, the final route was released and available for download in electronic form (thanks for the bandwidth, boss). The whole route is released as a series of twenty five 1:150 000 maps. The route (and occasional alternatives) is traced by an electronic highlighter and that’s what we use. For sections that require a greater scale of magnification, there will be a portion of 1:50 000 coverage of the area to augment the main map. There are thirty three of these, with many of them coming in the first few days.

As if a map isn’t enough, we also have a text narrative of the route, which extends to thirty pages. Just having done a little bit of the last section, I can attest to the few ‘up there’s and head scratchings when comparing map to text. Maybe that section will make more sense after 2000km under the belt when I understand this language called ‘Waddilove’.

Pushing hard for "the front of the field"

2008-06-20T05:51:00.000-07:00

The intrepid deep south hero, Boegs, Buffoon number 1, Stevie, Stevo, is pushing hard on the trail with fellow FC racer, Tim James.

Last nights contact, was that they’d decided to stay put as Tim was soggy as a wet loaf of bread at a light sabre contest. I suspect Tim will prove most useful later on in the race. Either for his knowledge of the course or if they get trapped in a crevasse and Stevo has to eat him to survive.

Think the tracking system on the FC website is alright, but what's confusing is just when everybody started, as they were started off in batches a day apart. There is also the ‘ride to Rhodes’ which is confusing the issue, with extra competitors that are going to stop in a few days. Man that’s like Frankie Fredricks pace setting for the first 200m of a 5000m dash.

10:30 am today, the wonder kid and his much older side kick, had already reached the check point for today's stage and were pushing through to the next one at Vuvu, like a fat chick at a buffet line. As Steve put it, this will put them at "the front of the field", with the first group who started a day ahead of Steve and 2 days ahead of Tim.

After Vuvu, they head off for approx 210km or so in search of South Africa's only ski-resort, Rhodes. If all goes well and given their strength and determination at the moment, we might be expecting them to touch down late Sunday evening, in time for the last chairlift run up the slope. Although reading the warnings and notices on their given direction list, I think they may have an easier time winning the Zim run-off elections. With the weather system busy lashing the Cape like a drunk headmaster in the old days, the bold print warnings of 'this track should be not be undertaken in poor visibility or bad weather' and 'an unridable ascent of 1000 metres of 5kms' will sure make for a fun weekend ahead.

Keep following the saga right as it continues to unfold. We'll try post daily updates on Stevie's progress, as well as any buffoon messages we manage to decode from him.

First contact

2008-06-19T06:41:00.000-07:00

After a few technical hitches on our side and some technical hitches with the tracking setup of the organisers, we've had our first official contact with our blanket obsessed, santa cruz riding, international man of mystery.

After surviving day 2 which was purported to have been muddier than an uzbeki all women’s wrestling match. We recieved a somewhat hurried phonecall this afternoon at 3, stevie was busy trying to make a call as to whether or not he should double up today, pushing through the check point, collecting his icecream tub full of sweeties and riding into the night to finish a stage ahead. Risky tactics but he sounded far too chipper after 140km today. Which leads me to believe one thing and one thing only. He's been sitting slipstreaming someones tail all day. Damn slacker. Word out is that Tim James, last years runner up pulled a sneaky double yesterday to catch up to Steve after starting a day behind. They're now riding together, although the words used where 'this guys platt, he's just slowing me down'. You tell 'em stevie, you tell 'em.

Brandishing the number 35, with vehement disregard for the racing ahead of him, Stevie's nothing but smack talk. We expect nothing less.

Pictures and more to follow tomorrow.

Where it all began

2008-05-23T05:20:00.000-07:00

I must have been about 10, and Father Christmas dropped off a blue bicycle with my name on it. I'd had bikes before, a run of hand me down BMX's from my older brother, but this was my first brand new one and it had gears too. It was probably a hybrid of sorts, had downtube gears and standard brake hoods on the drops but was a bit chunky and could even hit the grass here and there. Back then my sporty brother was in a cycling phase, and part of a well trained little squad from school that were doing this massive race called the Argus. They won the junior school section a few months later, but he never raced a bike again choosing golf instead. I vividly remember him explaining how to work these cog things: 'To go up hills you put it in the big one, because hills are big. It's the other way round with the front cogs”.

That little blue guy did miles around the neighbourhood with the street bike gang, but eventually got replaced by one of these newfangled things called a mountain bike when I was 14 and a bit bigger. The new Avalanche 'Sirocco' was also blue, but was built to hit the trail. It wore slicks in its early days as I trained and rode my first Argus with my dad (he on his Diamond Back 'Topanga'). We did a few of the pedalpower races and even a hectic trek up the West Coast all the way to Yzerfontein. On the day we got seperated somehow on Chappies and I dropped him. That was the first bike I did real trails with, especially dodging dog walkers and other ladies on the Alphen greenbelt trail.

Somewhere along the way I used to borrow an old road bike from family friends round Argus time. It was a seventies steel Peugeot and absolutely beautiful. It still had all the original components and only ever needed new rubber, it's always humbling riding a bike older than yourself. I took it into Flandria bike store in Stellenbosch once and they were very proud to see their 'supplied and service by' sticker on the frame, with a 5 digit phone number. When dad swapped cycling the Argus to running it as a Rotarian (co-incidentally the same year mom nudge ahead of him, according to winning time), I pilfered his Giant OCR3 and have put thousands of kays into it ever since. But maybe I'll borrow that Peugeot again sometime for old times sake.

Back to the real bikes, I became a matie and lived in an off-road mecca for five good years. The Avalanche eventually got redistributed by the Stellenbosch bike monster and a red Giant Rincon was procured from the papers. This guy stayed with me throughout varsity, but was relegated to commuter status once the MTB bug hit properly. This happened at a very distinct point in time.

One visionary at the Stellenbosch Berg en Toer Klub called Riaan put together a mtb tour. They'd go on weeklong hiking trips every holiday, but this was a first on two wheels. We would go from Stellenbosch to Grabouw, down to the coast and back, most of it on dirt. Another friend offered me his Giant Sedona to use for the trip. This was mainly because it had these front fork shocks and clipless pedals, wild luxuries in those days as a student mtber.

I came back from that bike tour a mtb addict and have been sick ever since. After much searching and questioning, a Diamondback Vectra Comp found my fancy and budget. An RST front shock with 38mm of travel, a tektro cable disc brake (but V on the rear) and Shimano Deore derailleur being big smile producing highlights. The next six years found many dirty kilometers rolling under those wheels all around the western cape. Pappegaaiberg, Jonkershoek, Coetzenberg, Eden, Botmaskop all found a special place as great rides in their own right, and Stellenbosch remains one of the best places to ride.

After varsity I did a spot of working and travelling and found myself at the end of a ski season in Whistler in Canada. Not a bad place to be if you like bikes. I left whilst the snow was still around but the bikes were already coming out of hibernation. Just a walk in the village square at the base of the ski lifts will see any mtb enthusiast dragging their jaw on the ground as the quality and quantity of bikes around is just like nothing else on earth. Luckily I picked up a well battered Mongoose full susser at the bike-swap for a steal of a deal at $50. Unluckily it only lasted about three weeks of Vancouver before some hobo showed his adept skills at lock picking.

A visit to the consignment (second hand) stores and a great die-hard Diamondback Topanga was picked up for another bargain deal. The name 'Raven Spirit' was scratched into the handlebar by the previous owner, and travel is what he did best. I acquired all the necessary for self-supported bike touring and started taking short trips whenever time allowed between all my odd jobs. Bicycle can be the greatest form of travel if exploring is your desired quest. Add a network of busses and ferries to British Columbia's forests and islands and you'll quickly find that one lifetime is not enough.

I had decided on a really simple idea, to bike all the way to Alaska and the Yukon territory. The simple plan was to go as far north as I could pedal in the limited time. There was the right amount of eyebrow raising from those in the know to make it an adventure of sorts, even if it was mostly tarred. I cheated and used ferries as well as a boatrace down the Yukon River to reach Dawson City (site of the Klondike gold rush), but a lot of brilliant pedalling was sweated on some desolate roads inbetween.

It wasn't exactly Africa, but the ever present fear of a bear encounter played on the mind. The respected opinion was to place all food (as well as any clothing worn when cooking) out of reach in a tree. and pray! Of course there are too many stories to fill in here, but it was a disappointing feeling to put the bike on a plane and head back to Vancouver and a wedding and the next part of life when there was so much more to see out there. It's amazing what you can squeeze into your day when the sun is up till midnight and your main expenditure is one almighty large meal at the end of the day. I feel I earned my bike tourer's stripes on that trip.

Back home I finally joined the real world, and with it came real money. The Diamond Back came out the loft and did quite a few more miles before ending up in the CapeAds, fetching 70% of her original price. It was probably in the mtb section of the Totalsports challenge where I ended up contending with no brakes and a lot of muddy downhill after 7 hours of racing that I decided that the sell by date had been reached. The new steed who replaced her was a beast of note – a Specialized Rockhopper, my first ever decent fork and hydraulic discs to put a fullstop to any madness. Dark, curvy and seemingly bombproof, she was an instant hit. Any race worth doing within driving distance was entered and somewhere I decided that this whole freedom challenge was not a question of if, but rather when. This was the bike to take me across the country, the next June.

Pity that plans don't always play out, especially when it involves exclusive ownership of your own bike and the 'hopper got liberated after just being washed as I popped inside. Lucky for me, a very nice racy full susser came onto the market from a friend. It had done a lot of miles, but had been looked after like Mugabe's trust fund. Enter the Santa Cruz Superlight. If it was any omen of sorts, just like the 'hopper she was Jet Black too. Jet, as in colour and swiftness. It was acquired with the race in mind, probably a little bit too fancy for such an arduous trek as the conventional thought seemed to be towards a lightweight no-frills hardtail. With endless days in the saddle, comfort becomes a priority and the full suspension provides just that.

The Blanket Saga

Yskoud innie karooo

Coast2karoo

Home and dry

Mini fail times two

Lunch 2

Top of the hill

Day 1.....of 2

Late lunch

On the road

Brrrrrrr

The ruff plan

Some outback riding

Day 6 - Bringing it home

Day 5 - Singletrack, Shoppping and Swelter

Day 4 - contrasts

Finished and klaar

Sir mix it up

Day 2 - the sahara ride

Day 3 - the R&r day

Long day but loving it

Rooinekke go round

Back in the real world

Day1-the sneaky warmup hots up

Day1-the sneaky warmup hots up

Africa rail travel

IMG00052-20091214-2329.jpg

testing testing

Anysberg West

WPASS presentation

Day 19

Day 18

Day 17

You gotta grip it

Day 16

Day 15

Day 14

blogga slogga

Day 13

Day 12

Day 11

Day 10

l*o*s*t and found

Day 9

And there was light

Day 8

The Good Stuff

Day 7

Brrrrrrr......

Day 6

Day 5

The big GM

There's no time for recovery

CapeStorm

Day 4

Day 3

Day 2

which way is north?

Day 1

The final preparations

And We're back!

So what’s in the knapsack?

Premature! For who?

Sho left, va right

Pushing hard for "the front of the field"

First contact

Where it all began

los*t and found