Cape Epic 2005

The Sunday Riders go to South Africa for the Cape Epic – an 8-day mountain bike stage race from Knysna to Stellenbosch, a distance of 900km.

Monday 28th March
Today we go to South Africa, our bags and bikes are packed and it’s off to Heathrow to catch our flight. SAA have informed us that bike carriage is a set price of $60, armed with documents we approach the check-in. All goes smoothly until the woman sees the bikes and mentions something about excess baggage. Suspecting that we are going to get stung per kg I tell her what the airline told me about the fee. She shakes her head and consults another clerk. I get the paperwork out, she looks it over, shakes her head and calls for a supervisor. I retrieve a second paper confirming the price and ask where we can go to pay it. Her frown is deepening and after a scratch of her head she tells us that she’s sure the bikes should go free of charge! All paperwork is hastily withdrawn and we swiftly deposit our bikes into the oversize luggage chute and board the jumbo for the flight to Cape Town. The pre-flight talk tells us that sleeping on the floor is not allowed, we hadn’t thought of sleeping in the aisle but once mentioned it magnified into an all-consuming idyll that continued to torment us as we contorted our aching limbs through endless unnatural positions over the ensuing twelve hours.

Tuesday 29th March
Get taxi to Park Inn Hotel in Green Market Square, slap bang in the middle of Cape Town. Explore the area then visit Shane at Bowmans Cycles. KB has given us this contact and we hope to be able to meet up with him and Julie but there’s no sign of them yet. Bowmans will be the official Shimano supplier for the Cape Epic. I buy new gloves that turn out to be the buy of the week.

Wednesday 30th March
The Epic organisers have set up a transfer service to Knysna from the Protea President Hotel. We get a courtesy bus there from our hotel and bump into another mixed pair from Scotland. I know that a colleague of Jim's is doing the race and indeed it is the same person – Jeff and Maggie (Team Bling!). We load the bikes into a trailer and, as we are about to leave, meet Mark and Viv (Team Refuel) our friends from England. We board a bus decked out in the Springboks colours and set off. Along the way the coach provokes cheery waves from passers-by and toots from fellow road users. As we pull into a service station we are confronted by disappointed faces as people, expecting their national rugby heroes, are treated to the sight of skinny cyclists! The countryside is not very inspiring and the mood is not added to by the gathering of black clouds and a strong wind which we can’t help but notice is coming straight from Cape Town, we could be in for 8 days of head winds! As darkness falls the rain begins, battering heavily on the panes. We eventually roll into Knysna, it’s taken over 7 hours – only later do we find out that the coach had obsolete windscreen wipers and our poor driver had driven as fast as he dared with zero visibility!
We are dropped at the Protea hotel and met by Paul, who arrived yesterday, and our old friends, Cal from San Diego and Jose from Portugal. We also meet Mark and Mel (Team Splott Rockets from Cardiff). We are booked in at the nearby Log Inn and, before we retire for the night, check our e-mails. To our horror we find that our joke at being asked to be seeded in the top 50 has backfired; we in at No 25!!

Thursday 31st March
After breakfast we go over to Paul’s hotel to collect and re-assemble our bikes. We ride over to Knysna Cycles where we pass on regards from Gary who met the owner – another Gary, on his visit there last year. He replies that Mr Gary of Knysna Cycles sends his regards back to Mr Gary of F.W.Evans! We meet another mixed pair, Janice and Jamie (Team Sauna Cyclists) who are over with supporter Steve from Alaska and just happen to be part of the infamous Iditabike organisation – why do I get a dreadful feeling that our Alaskan pipe dream has suddenly solidified??
At 2pm we gather for a pre-race bike ride guided by local rider Ian and organised by the other bike shop in town - Action Cycles. Jim has arrived with girlfriend Dymphna and we meet two affable Dutch judo guys - Fred and Francesco. The ride covers the first 10km of the course and rises steeply out of town through a golf course development. Onto wide, undulating fireroads and ‘off-road’ double track. I’m feeling remarkably good to be on the bike after all the travelling. The pace is comfortable and the terrain non-technical, apparently it isn’t going to get much more taxing than that – we’ll see! Once back we get together with Refuel and Julie and KB who have arrived and dine at a local restaurant.

Friday 1st April
Wake to pouring rain! Raymond and I locate the Knysna tourism centre to send our regards to the CEO Craig from his friend Rod, whom we met racing at Thetford last week. We’re getting quite good at all this networking! Next stop is the bank for money and we’re amused by the sign depicting no full face helmets, no smoking and no guns allowed in the foyer, like it’s quite normal to carry guns anywhere else! Visit Action Cycles, who’ll be accompanying the race, then go to the sign-on tent. Deposit R500 for the transponders that go on the bikes, bags and us, and collect our race numbers, bags and timing chips.
A race briefing follows hosted by a familiar face – Mike, the commentator from the TransAlps, a guy who’s definitely on speed. Later we dump all luggage that we don’t need to take with us on a truck to Spier and try to get a good night’s sleep.

Saturday 2nd April
Race Day 1. Knysna – Saarsveld 128.5km, 2940m ascent, 7hr15

5.00am comes around all too quickly accompanied with that sick, lurching feeling that reminds me that I said I wasn’t going to do one of these again! At the start Mike the Man is beating the crowds to fever pitch. Due to our seeding Raymond and I are in the front paddock with all the Olympiad athletes, fish out of water. A choir sings the South African national anthem which blends seamlessly into ‘put your hands up’, a transalp favourite, then the signature song that will send me scuttling for my bike every time I hear it - U2’s Vertigo. As Bono counts down we set off on a ‘neutralised’ start that sees us hurtle down the road behind the motorbikes at 45kph, by the time we turn off-road we’ve lost any advantage that our seeding gave us as cyclists flood by. Up the steep climb then down a steep hair pinned gravel descent, cross a ford, up a steep hill, down a steep hair pinned descent, cross a ford and so it goes on through dense, lush vegetation. Raymond takes a pee stop and is promptly passed by Paul & Jim. It’s taken them an hour and a half to catch us; I’m surprised we lasted out that long! Jim is suffering up hill so we re-take them only to be passed on the next down hill and so it goes. Flying down the next descent I suddenly spot a deep trench across the trail and slam on the brakes to pirouette to a shaky halt, Raymond just manages to miss me, Jim and Paul hurtle past only to stop metres later to fix Jim’s impact puncture from the trench. I later hear that Julie went over the bars and another unfortunate broke a wrist at the same place. Following the water stop is the ‘treacherous singletrack’ bit we’ve been warned against – I drop off the road in trepidation only to find an overgrown double jeep track, which, although very wet and muddy, is completely rideable, just messy. A steep climb leads us to a village green and the second water stop, we Hi-5 the kids and wonder at the roadside fauna of furry calves and singing frogs. We jump onto some wheels to ease our way to the final stop - only 12km to go. We eat bananas then make a speedy exit as on the horizon comes a peleton of 40+ riders. Steep hair pinned ups and downs on a good metalled road follow, this has encouraged people to overcook things, several corners are decked with bleeding bikers. The finish is uphill and at the 5km sign I hear Maggie’s voice behind, this is all I need to spur me up a gear and we cross the line at Saarsveld university campus. Our finish ritual begins – dump bike in Parc Ferme, pick up race bag, locate a tent, get a shower, sleep, go to dining tent at 6pm, eat, watch winner’s presentation, listen to next day’s briefing, go to bed at 9.30pm.

Sunday 3rd April
Race Day 2 Saarsveld – Herbertsdale 145km 2720m ascent 8hr01

5am, we are woken from our gentle slumber by full-on air raid sirens. Our morning ritual begins – dress, pack, breakfast, load race bag in truck, pick up bike, fill water bottles, line up in designated paddock. This is decided by overall placings and we are in zone C. Manic Mike is in full swing an hour before our 7am start. We climb on a dirt road out of the campus and into lush countryside only to be brought to a sudden bottleneck - a river crossing followed by a short up hill push, there’s uproar! People are grumbling that they signed up for a bike ride not a swim and hike, some even remove their shoes and socks and put them back on dry the other side! Us old-handers just take it in our stride. The jeep track then traverses the mountainside; the views are fabulous from the ocean and Mossel Bay to the left, to mountain ranges on the right. As befitting a Sunday the SundayRiders are re-united, we are all riding together, Paul & Jim, Julie & Keith, me & Raymond, with honorary guests Jose and Nunu. Life doesn’t get much better than thisJ As we climb through wild bougainvillea, hibiscus and finbus we are told that someone has spotted an elephant but it’s shy and we don’t see it.
At the water point we take off layers and apply suntan cream, it’s hot under cloudless skies. Fast, wide gravel roads lead to a ford with a very steep climb out, most walk - the SundayRiders all clear it. Somewhere we lose Julie & Keith but Paul, Jim, Raymond and I manage to catch the end of a fast group and hitch a lift on the 'bus' to the next stop. This is preceded by a deep ford through which I blast drenching Raymond from head to foot. Jim reprimands me for actually overtaking him on a downhill! Julie & Keith arrive as we set off, up a red gravel road, stopping only to oil our chains. Supporters await us at the top playing ‘stand up for the champions’ (a TransRockies revival) and giving me a push over the summit. A few hundred metres later there is an almighty bang. It sounds like a shotgun and makes me jump, then my bike squirms alarmingly – my rear tyre has blown its sidewallL “You’re f*ck*d” is Raymond’s succinct observation. Paul & Jim nod agreement and, with little to do to help, continue. Raymond can always improvise in a crisis and binds my tyre with zinc oxide strapping, it bulges horrendously but it’s rideable. Up hills and flats should be ok but I have to slow to a crawl on the downs just in case it goes. I fancy Jim has cursed me!! Still, only 60km to go…. We are passed by all and sundry on the undulating road, it’s so frustrating. Jose is at the next water point and offers us a leather tyre boot to reinforce our tenuous repair, we exchange horrified glances then throw our vegan principles to the wind and accept! 30km of red gravel to go with a previously eagerly anticipated 15km downhill finish. We complete it at a snail’s pace and roll over the line at the pretty village of Herbertsdale. Keith is very naughty and buys me a new tyre – I still owe him! Tonight we decide we don’t need to see the winners in their jerseys and are quite happy to have the following day’s route come as a complete surprise if it means getting to sleep an hour earlier.

Monday 4th April
Race Day 3 Herbertsdale – Riversdale 104km 1435m ascent 4hr42

From today the start is 8am so everything is an hour later. The mountains are shrouded in mist which swirls ever lower until it envelopes us on the start line in a fine damp cloud. A tarmac start allows the formation of several peletons, I get on the back of one but Raymond doesn’t and hitches a lift with many others behind the tandem couple. The pilot looks over his shoulder, sees the crowd he’s towing and moves out, the guy behind him pats him on the back, smiles, nods and pushes him back onto the front telling him he's doing a good job! Julie & Keith have made a flying start and are out of sight, Raymond and Paul take turns towing our group once we turn off onto gravel track but the fast start has frazzled my legs and I’m having difficulty hanging on. No one stops at the first water point, it’s come round too soon, the mist has sunk beneath us now and we’re in glorious blue skies with mountain tops poking through the sunken clouds. Paul gets a spilt in his front tyre, Raymond hands him the borrowed piece of leather and the tape and we continue at a good pace. We meet Mark & Viv as I stop to put suntan cream on before a long, exposed climb which then undulates through farmland to stop 2 where we see Julie & Keith just leaving. We leave the road for overgrown grassy tracks, pass through a deep ford with barbed wire that I walk but Raymond rides and climb an actual singletrack with Arno & Jurg from Germany. We stick with their group along fast fire roads until – bang – Raymond’s rear tyre has ripped in two places. We stare in dismay realising that we’ve given Paul all our tape. We improvise with recycled duct tape by which time Mark & Viv have stopped and give us more tape, then Paul & Jim arrive and once sure we’re ok, continue. It is baking hot and there is no shade but the repair holds well and we soon reach the last water stop with 15km to go on more undulating track. From the plateau we can see our destination, we pass isolated houses and rejoin tarmac to face a hard head-wind to the finish in the school grounds.
Here we see Jeff & Maggie, they’ve been storming but today she’s fallen and is a mass of bruises. Whilst waiting to shower I’m approached by Karen, a supporter from La Ruta, who remembers me! Later, we change Raymond’s tyre and my brake pads that have been rubbing badly. There's great entertainment tonight, S.Africa’s version of a Pop Idol winner, can-can girls and a band of majorettes. This evening there is a microlight flying low over our encampment and Paul has bought himself a hat tagged with ‘Free PF’ good protest gear to wear if he’s ever arrested.


Tuesday 5th April
Race Day 4 Riversdale – Barrydale 110km 2425m ascent 6h24

Everyone seems tired today and the start is much less hectic than yesterday. We retrace the road then bear left onto hard pack dirt gradually climbing through verdant farmland set in a valley between heavily folded mountains, we ride with Paul & Jim them gaining on the downs, us catching on the ups. We are tracked by the microlight which turns out to be the race film crew. At last we get a ‘proper’ hill winding up the mountain to a quarry at the top complete with a Gaudi digger for LilCuteOne. Meet up with the Nampack boys and Weekend Warriors and water stop 1. The descent is a screamer, fast fine red gravel where we overtake a lumbering lorry and by the bottom I’ve got cramp in both feet. Rolling tarmac traverses the valley and winds through heavily wooded tunnels of trees and much appreciated shade to an oasis and water stop 2. What follows next is a rare treat – proper way-marked cycle track through pretty heathland, just like the Peak District. Excellent rocky climb and double track with a spectacular gorge to our right, precariously close at times. It’s Paul & Jim’s territory and they pass us on a rocky descent, then it's muddy puddles with hidden stones and the cameraman catches Raymond making an unscheduled dismount as he hits a ditch. Next, a steep, loose downhill to a river crossing which I don't even think twice about riding but by the cheers of spectators sheltering under a tree it seems llike most people have walked it. More hard packed trail then we join the main road and form a group with some other teams. We catch Maggie & Jeff just before the last water stop. Paul and Jim soon arrive and we leave to tackle the 15km road stretch that will take us over the famed Tradouw pass. It's hot and very reminiscent of Mallorca, I settle into an easy rhythm, we pass Jeff & Maggie again and after a short, sweet descent the road contours the hillside to the finish. We see an ambulance and Cape Epic van speeding past in the opposite direction and hope it's nothing serious. Raymond has hit a serious sugar low and gets shelter on my wheel as I'm feeling strong and happy. Today there has been no injuries, no mechanicals and no pressure to keep up. Paul & Jim come in some time behind us. They had left the last stop and cycled down the hill before Jim realised that he'd left his helmet behind and had to go back for it! Doh!
The official Cape Epic race jerseys are on sale today so we get money from an ATM in the local shop to buy them and pick up some sweets to hand out to the children. Paul uses one of the conveniences on the way back to camp but discovers that the waste pipe from the urinal isn't directed outside when he gets wet feetJ We take grapes to Keith who is laid up in the medical tent with cramps due to dehydration/mineral depletion, Julie however is flying. We also find out that Mark broke a chain today and that the microlight had crashed resulting in a broken leg for the film man. Wednesday 6th April
Race Day 5 Barrydale - Montagu 107km 1125m ascent 6hr20

Today is the long awaited ride through the Sambona game reserve where we can apparently hope to see the 'Big 5'. I start the day by spraining my wrist putting my sleeping bag away, Raymond forgets his water bottle and the zip on my camelback breaks. On the fast tarmac drop out of town I see a person lying in the middle of the road and assume it's a cameraman. I think what a dangerous place it is to take photos. As we pass by it's obvious that it's not a photograher but a marshal who's been struck by the front runners and is badly hurt, a cyclist lies in the gutter behind her. We can't stop and carry on in disturbed mood. The trail is hard packed, stony double track and we pass Julie who's lost Keith. We enter the national park through large gates, high fences line the trail. The terrain is very much like Moab, stepped rock and deep red sand. The only scenery is scrubby, rocky outcrops, no animals are to be seen other than some ants and the only other live presence are the rangers armed with tracking equipment and rifles. The road is dead straight, although undulating, and stretches into oblivion. The sky is overcast in a monotonous grey and I feel like I'm on a turbo trainer in a painted room. It is interminably boring and my mood steadily deteriorates, only a few squirrelly moments in the sand grab my waning attention. Suddenly I'm jolted awake by some actual mountain biking, the trail drops sharply, then climbs just as steeply. It's loose and rocky. The weird thing is - everyone's walking! Even I can ride most of this (although a few sections are hiking bits). Raymond clears more than anyone else around and when asking someone to move out of the way is told that riding it is 'completely unnecessary'! Then it's back to the painted turbo room for a while. After stop 2 there are annoying dried up river beds with thick soft sandy dips into rock strewn channels. A good rock climb follows and a cameraman tells me I'm looking tired! That's not right! He's meant to say "you're looking good" or "only 10mins/3km (delete as necessary) to go" surely? As I'm pondering this I realise I've wandered back into the turbo room and wonder whether those bits were just a dream? I am filled with a sense of intense vitriol that is all consuming.
We reach stop 3 and have 17km to go. Raymond's knee is painful, possibly due to yesterday's fall, he adjusts his pedal spacer to see if that helps. A wide gravel road thankfully leads us out of the reserve and into farmland. I wake from my turbo nightmare to see people working in the orchards and smell sweet roses, my mood lifts. As we near the finish we pass through the outskirts of Montagu, the road is lined with children shouting for chocolate and holding out their hands for Hi-5's. Raymond asks them for chocolate and pretends to clobber them about their heads. Paul & Jim are at the finish where Dymphna has been enjoying the spectacle. We cross the line with the Warriors who are nursing a puncture. Children swarm around us wanting our autographs either on Cape Epic paper or if they haven't got that, on body parts!
This afternoon's routine is spiced up by a leg massage and by having our weight, body fat and hydration levels measured. Raymond is a svelte 5.8% and pronounced an elite athlete, I come in at 7.7% am told that's dangerously low and to go back tomorrow. I decide not to just in case they stop me riding!

Thursday 7th April
Race Day 6 Montagu - Villiersdorp 115km 1170m ascent 5hr52

Today's stage has been shortened from 127km dur to flooding, odd since we've been sweltering under azure skies. Raymond is seriously considering retiring with his knee and I'm plagued with period cramps - happy days! He lowers his saddle, I munch on paracetamol. It's a road blast to start with but we take it slowly to ease Raymond's tendons in. Then we wind through orchards where workers are singing. we gradually gain height and the trees are swapped for bushes with thorns 2" long. We pass the Evans' boys fixing a puncture, they've had several and Raymond gives them a spare tube. They re-pass but no sooner do so than puncture again. I give them a pack of patches and they thank us as the climb ahead. The road drops into a busy town and stop 1. Paul & Jim are just leaving but we pass them only metres down the road with a flat. The next bit must be the diversion as it's a long tarmac section. I'm feeling strong and pull Raymond and his dodgy knee onto the back of a group. We pass Evans' again and ask them what they're playing at - joking that if they fall out of the top 20 Gary said they'd have to work for us! Raymond is rallying and pulls us up the hill and we slipstream two big guys from Germany down the other side. We bit'n'bit like this for miles until we turnoff onto hard pack road through vineyards and stop 2. Here I stock up on pills from the medical tent and we commence the hike-a-bike section. The sun is high and the sand a dazzling white, it gets into my socks. We sweat profusely as we climb and push the bikes up a steep, loose, rocky hill, hindered by the cameramen and paramedics on quad bikes and motorbikes who overtake only to stall in front of us and upset our rhythm. By the top the sand has rubbed big blisters on my heels. Today the mountainside looks scenic under deep blue skies, the rock and sand descent widens to a gravel road interspersed with tarmac sections and we are confronted by a mirage of three white horses wandering in the middle of nowhere. It's fast downhill through farms, orchards and vineyards to stop 3, we leave in a blaze of bourgainvillea following a wide gravel road which winds upwards then down into a strong headwind. Sharp left takes us between apple trees to what looks like the South Downs, a white track winds across the fields, snaking uphill, dotted with groups of cyclists. This is more like it! Masts mark the summit then it’s a sandy downhill to run parallel to a canal where we meet the Sauna duo who’ve also suffered punctures, we hand them a spare tube. A red road leads into town, then a tarmac drag up to the main street and flat sprint to the finish, two mixed pairs hot on our heels, Raymond leads me out but our rhythm is interrupted by some pedestrians stepping into our path. This allows a third mixed pair to join the chase. The guy from Team Beautiful Day takes his chance and just pips me to the line, but his partner is off his wheel and Raymond & I are microseconds behind. She comes in fourth and the aggregate timing system gives us the win!! We have been cycling with this team a lot but have finished behind them every day until now. We shake hands all round, playful rivalry and good camaraderie is always found in these events, it's that common bond of suffering!
We get ice for my wrist and Raymond’s knee and try to settle into our tents, but the field is completely over run with big black crickets that skuttle everywhere you look. Later, when I try to get more ice for my wrist, I’m dragged inside the medical tent and told a doctor will see me, I say I don’t want to bother them, it’s only some ice for a sprain. Nevertheless a doctor appears. Firstly he asks me if I’m a cyclist as the medical tent is designed for treating the racers, I say yes, he says I look far too fresh! Then he asks what I’ve done, I cringe as I tell him I’ve sprained my wrist packing my sleeping bag up. He stifles a laugh, confirms my tendonitits, which is displaying a lovely crepitus on movement, and decides to strap it up. Meanwhile bleeding guys are being brought in on stretchers, the bloke next to me has a couple of hyperdermics in his bum and is waiting to be stitched!
Julie & Keith join us for tea, he looks awful, Julie is thriving. It’s been far too hot for Keith, Julie just tells him to think of ice cubes and penguins before sprinting ahead of him! We sleep despite the constant barrage of insomniac crickets that sing wildly whilst dive bombing the tents, probably wondering where this infestation of orange triangles has come from.

Friday 8th April
Race Day 7 Villiersdorp – Boschendal 115km 1875m ascent 6h20

What they take with one hand they give with the other. Today’s stage has been lengthened from 103km to make up for our disappointment in yesterday’s shortened stage. But something is missing, no Mike, no loud music, has the PA system packed up? Unfortunately no, there is a much more devastating reason for the quietness, at the start we are informed that one of the riders died in his sleep last night. Shocked we hold a minute’s silence before starting our penultimate day at a sombre pace. We turn left after a stretch of main road onto forest track which gradually climbs, turns into narrow double track strewn with rocks. It winds ever upwards, again lots are walking whilst we relish the challenge and ride on until we burst through the cloud and are confronted with the most awesome sight of the trip. To our right the valley lies under thick fluffy white cloud that looks like it’s just discovered gravity and fallen out of the sky. Standing above, you almost want to throw yourself onto it like a giant bouncy castle. The track is edged by pretty heather-like shrubs and the descent is fast and furious. Julie whizzes past minus Keith, I hurtle down at scary speeds, my descending is improving dramatically. The track then meanders along the valley floor, white sand accentuates the heat and I am fighting a losing battle against my cramps having to stop at the roadside several times to wait for them to pass. We are losing lots of time. Stop 2 provides more medication then it’s a road climb, newly tarmaced and sticky in the heat, our tyres make such a squelchy noise as they adhere to the road and suck at the strength in our legs. A clever one way system has been devised as police escorts traffic up the hill then turns round and escorts others back down. All wave and cheer us on, the descent is tempered by a strong head wind but at least it’s cool. A mixture of tarmac and red gravel roads takes us to vineyard country. We cycle a convoluted course between the vines passing loads of people fixing punctures. These include Paul & Jim, who should have been miles ahead, they’d apparently counted 50+ thorns in their tyres. We shout if they’re ok only for me to puncture just metres ahead. As we change the tube Mark & Viv go past, shortly followed by Paul & Jim. We chase after them, cycle through a couple of dirt-devils/mini tornados, (hoping they’d pick us up and deposit us at the finish, pleading they didn’t drop us back at the start!) and circle a reservoir then back between the grapes, we catch Mark & Viv with 5km to go and hope to reel in the boys, but they are nowjere in sight as we rejoin the road and finish on the driveway of a fantastic wine estate in manicured grounds. This is the loveliest setting so far and we laze under the trees lining the finish applauding as people come in. We are shocked to see the arrival of Paul & Jim, who we assumed had finished, but they'd succumbed to yet another puncture. We get a surprise at tea when Paul bumps into Clayton who’s doing some warm weather triathlon training over here and has come to check the race out! Paul retires to bed early, Jim has a grin as wide as a Cheshire cat, he’s coming into form and rapidly wearing Paul out!

Saturday 9th April
Race Day 8 Boschendal – Spier 45km 1875 m 2h54

Our last day and a short one at that. We are treated to a 9.00am start. Through the vineyards, a bottleneck at a tiny water splash, and through a small village, everyone is out to see us go by. Raymond throws the children sweets, often only throwing two when there are four children, sending them fighting to the floor – b*st*rd!
A long winding forestry track allows us to gain places but on the descents it’s so dusty the riders in front appear then disappear like ghosts. A short muddy patch is followed by deep sand then a short sharp climb through some houses. The next hill is steep with two strips of concrete separated by rubble, which makes overtaking difficult. It’s not helped by people dismounting and walking very slowly in front and not willing to get out of the way of others riding. Finally, even I lose patience and I end up yelling at them for blocking my path. The track levels to contour the hillside that is covered in dense bushy heathers and pine trees; under deep blue skies, it looks and smells wonderful. Just as we get to cruising speed Raymond punctures, both Keith & Julie and Mark & Viv pass us by, but we’ve not yet seen Paul & Jim. Once fioxed we continue and see 'Daytripper' Steve at the crest of the hill taking photos. Next, a loose downhill, which I’m starting to excel at, even going off line to overtake people! and a fast fire road that hides a loose left bend, which is to claim a lot of skin before the day is out. As we twist through some proper singletrack we see Clayton who cheers us onwards and upwards. Again there are too many people walking to ride far so we end up sprinting past them pushing our bikes. Good singletrack through the pine trees follows which thankfully I get a clear run at, more firetrack then a sharp right onto part of the UCI world cup course. Hurrah, lovely swooshy trails, bumps and berms but, dear god, people are still walking and getting in the way!?! I despair, even I can manage this! Leaving water point 2 we start the next stony climb with happy, springy legs after the singletrack feast, we meander through more vineyards then join a main road and encounter a queue. Instead of letting us cross the road, or sending us up to the nearby traffic lights to turn us around, the organisers have improvised a portage through a sewer! Julie and Keith are just emerging from the other side. We wait our turn to clamber down into the drainage chute, balance precariously across a ledge under the road and jump over the smelly water to scramble up the other side. There are several reports of people falling in, yuck! Back on the road it’s only 6km to go, through more vineyards and then criss cross several times through a deep stream. We are neck and neck with another mixed pair and gain the advantage as she gets chain suck emerging from the water. We wade the stream for the last time and re-enter the vineyard. I get ready to sprint but Raymond shouts, he’s got a front flat. I can’t believe this and just scream “nooooooooooooooo!” in despair as our rivals sail past. He wants to fix it but I can just make out the tents so the finish can’t be far off. I ask him whether he can ride on it or else to just pick up his bike and run! He rides, carefully unweighting the front wheel, within a few hundred metres the finish arch is in sight, people throng the road and the Nampack guys cheer us in. Raymond controls things admirably even when, in my excitement, I grab his hand as we cross the line! We’ve done it and done it well, ending up 14th/50 in the mixed category and 149th /460 overall. Julie and Keith are chilling out in the shade of some modern art. Mark and Viv aren’t far behind and Paul & Jim come in some time later having had more punctures and Jim adding his skin to the large pile collecting on that sketchy left bend.

So ends the Magical and Untamed Cape Epic. An amazing experience and an incredible feat of organisation. The logistics behind the running of this event must be staggering. With over 900 racers and 300 staff, we were provided with a tent each! There were enormous marquees hosting the dining tent (complete with tables with tablecloths and table centres, I almost expected a dress code), the kitchens, race headquarters, media tent, race hospital, massages, and bag storage. Bike mechanics were on call day and night. Thought had even gone into the provision of the water, all from the same source to prevent stomach upsets, (the Coca-Cola plant in Cape Town), and tankered in to us daily. The showers, 30 perched on the back of a juggernaut, were provided by Absolute Ablutions and were always hot, a first in our multi-stage experience. Search and rescue vehicles, paramedics on quad bikes and motorcycles and 3 water points / 1 medic tent on the course per day. All this was put up one day, taken down, transported to the finish and re-erected the next, all before the pros got there, which was less than 4 hours after the start on some days! That’s a lot of manpower to call upon. All in all - an excellent race if not quite what I was expecting, not as technical but made up for in sheer distance. For the masochist in me, I didn’t feel like I suffered enough! No 12-hour days, our longest was 8 and that was due to a mechanical not the terrain; I slept too well, we were all provided with 6” foam mattresses! And ate too well, Thomas & Dalida cooked vegan meals even managing to procure tofu which is a feat in itself in London let alone a field in the outback of the southern capeJ Big Hi5’s go to the children, who were carrying bags we could barely lift to our tents, washing our bikes and entertaining us in the evenings with singing, dancing and playing in brass bands. The only downside – no finishers’ presentation of shirts and medals which just left it feeling a bit incomplete. But definitely recommended, especially for roadies wanting to try their hand at a multi-stage mtb event or first-timers before tackling the more technically challenging TransAlps / Rockies or Ruta because despite the ‘big-up’ this race could have been done on a cross-bike JG