Qualified

Once again, I find myself re-hashing the official AudaxSA ride report, but on this occasion it does give a somewhat more descriptive account than usual.

I was jumpy and on edge as we gathered for this year's Cape 300km ride. It's not the longest or toughest of the local brevets, and we completed last year's edition with relative ease despite mechanicals and a relaxed social pace. But the nerves that often plague me ahead of important races and events were back with a vengeance. The ride wasn't the problem, it was the significance - successful completion would mean I had all the qualifiers needed to enter for PBP. It's not quite the same as an actual confirmed entry for the big event, but it's only one step removed from that.


At least I was kept busy before the start - our field of riders had grown yet further from the January brevet. It was a little surprising to see the ride so popular. A 200km in January makes sense - just after the Christmas break it's a good way to get training again and the distance is not such a big stretch for regular riders. But a 300km ride just two weeks before the Argus (now the Cape Town Cycle Tour) seemed like a recipe to deter potential entrants. But here we were, with 25 riders and I was more than a little disorganized getting them all signed in, explaining brevet cards to the newcomers, and also handing out medals from past rides.

The brevet itself was a tale played out in three acts. The scene for the first of those being set just before dawn, as most of us were descending Franschhoek pass. Despite Henri's convincing re-assurances that we’d been looking at the wrong weather forecast, clouds rolled across the mountains and rain fell. A light drizzle at first, growing quickly into a full blown downpour. The route down the pass towards Theewaterskloof is usually a fast, fun, occasionally chilly blast down to the dam. In the dark though, on wet roads, it was a rather different experience. Brakes squealed ahead and behind as riders picked cautious lines through the snaking, slippery bends at speeds considerably below the norm. One rider even commented on Facebook later that he'd actually got off and walked for about 100m downhill, the visibility was that bad.

Randonneurs around the globe would have instantly recognised the scene a little way beyond at the first control - the Shell garage in Villiersdorp. Bikes propped up all over the place with groups of riders huddled around, a little cold, a little damp, but still smiling and chatting, with vending machine coffees in hand which were considerably better than their R8 price suggested. Or maybe, it was just that they were warm and contained at least trace amounts of caffeine. Fortunately, departing the control also saw the end of the opening act. As the road turned downwards towards Worcester, so the clouds started to lift upwards. Patches of blue began to appear overhead, allowing shafts of sunlight through to pick out the sublime landscape of mountains, fynbos, and farms along the valley. The bad weather was past, puddles along the road were drying out, and act two could begin - riders enjoying a glorious late summer's day to be out on a bike.

The pre-ride briefing offered the option to use Die Eike at the start of Slanghoek valley as an alternative control to Rawsonville - it being just a couple of kilometres further along the road. As the tail group pulled in, it was apparent this had proven a popular suggestion. Close on half the field were there, and whilst the service was a bit on the slow side - the coffee was strong, and the breakfasts seemed to be hitting the spot. Once water bottles and bellies had been filled, it was time to set out and savour the most scenic section of the ride - Slanghoek valley, leading to Bainskloof pass beyond. In a valley which faces predominantly North, with a wind that was supposedly from just East of South, it was surprising to meet occasional blasts of headwind along the way. It was tempting to hope the forecasts had been wrong, and there would be no battle with the wind later on in the day. It didn't seem especially likely though, the tightly packed surrounding peaks appeared to be a more plausible cause of the shifting wind direction.

Sad to report, but the road surface on Bainskloof is not improving - already rough and potholed, there are now a few places where the steeper edges are clearly starting to break up. The roadside of the lower section had also been booby-trapped with Duwweltjies - resulting in a second puncture of the day for the tail group. None of this detracted from the dramatic beauty of the pass though, especially for those in the field seeing it at cycling speed for the first time. The climb itself isn't steep or difficult, but it's surprisingly long. In fact it's a perfect test for rider's Audax credentials: the ability to maintain a steady pace and strong resolve. As the last riders came into the 3rd control at the Shell Garage in Wellington it was clear that everyone had passed the test.

One rider's machine though was faring somewhat less well - after two punctures, Hendrik's rear freehub was now protesting loudly. With a predominantly downwind leg of 40km to the next control, it was a cruel blow - instead of being able to enjoy some fast and easy freewheeling, he had to keep pedalling for the entire leg to prevent the chain fouling. He was riding probably the only 10 speed fixed gear bike in the Cape. The tail group hatched several plans to remedy the fault though - the first of those being a liberal lube at the next control. A very attractive plan as it transpired, since Riebeek West offered up a very friendly roadside pub at which riders could also lube up with some beers whilst the repairs took place. Luckily there was no need for plan B - rolling out of the control back towards Riebeek Kasteel the squeals and chain lock-up were gone, replaced by a re-assuring hum.

On the short stretch to the next control, it was clear that the pleasant easy cycling would soon be coming to an end - act two was drawing to its close. The weather was back, only this time in the form every cyclist dreads, strong headwinds. It wasn't much of a problem over the short distance to the final control in Malmesbury, but it was clear that the final 50km home would be a much tougher task. After a brief respite enjoying cappuccinos in the Wimpy, it was time for the tail group of riders to go out and battle the beast. Every cyclist knows the most important word in that last sentence under such conditions - "group". The wind was truly brutal, easily the worst most of us had experienced since the Cape of Storms Argus in 2009. Progress was painfully slow, but luckily the group had several riders still feeling fairly strong who could alternate places at the front and break-up the workload a little.

The tail group of 6 riders soon became 7 as we picked up Markus a little way outside Malmesbury. He'd left the Wimpy ahead of us, but had clearly decided the combination of wind and uphill was too much to slog through alone and was trudging along beside his bike. The group slowed, gave him time to latch on and gather his breath, and pressed on - although it wouldn't be fair to say we sped up much, such was the force of the wind. It was clear this was going to be a low, slow grind to the end. With about 27km to go one rider (me) was beginning to lose good humour, and called for a brief stop. We stood exposed with wind ripping across the fields, joking and swearing about the conditions. At least one bike was picked up and nearly tossed into the field alongside the road, but after a few minutes respite we mounted up again and slogged on. A few kilometres further our group swelled to 8 - Nico had got so fed-up battling the last 70km solo, he'd stopped and waited for us. We'd hoped the wind might drop when the sun finally dipped below the golden fields of wheat to our right, but it didn't, at least not immediately. We did at least hit some smooth tar though, a joy to sore hands and behinds. Eventually, as the final landmarks came into view over the last few kilometres the wind did drop in force slightly. It had blown its worst, battered our riders, but none were broken as they closed out what was for most the toughest 50km they had ever ridden. The previous 250km now just a distant memory of pleasant and easy cycling.

At least there was no sense of anti-climax to the ride. The last 50km may have been one of the most brutal stretches of any of our brevets, the 600 included, but there was simply no way I was going to cave or mess it up with all that completing it meant. My resolve and determination had not wavered for a second as we battled it out - and the relief at the end as we swung into the Vrede entrance was enormous. It was also the last qualifier Nico needed - I forget our exact words, but remember riding up the drive exchanging congratulations. The last big task is to actually secure that place when pre-registration opens on May 10th. With cycling popularity at an all time high, it's far from certain - going to be a nervous time until my ride place is actually booked.



With thanks to Andre Steyn for the use of his photos.

ToS 2015

Seems that in all the Audax activity, I totally forgot to make any mention of this year's Tour of Sufferlandria. The formula was pretty much identical to the past two years - 9 stages over 9 days. As before, I opted to participate using Trainer Road to keep me honest and track my progress through the tour. 

Whilst there may have been little new in the format, the stages were quite different. First off were a series of new videos:

• Elements of Style
• Nine Hammers
• Angels (I opted to upgrade to the new 2015 edition)
• The Rookie
• Half is Easy

I had added most of these to my library already when released, but had yet to ride any of them. As a creature of habit, it's easy to get stuck riding old favourites rather than experimenting with new videos especially when pressed for time. So the 2015 tour presented a perfect opportunity to give them a try.

Another obvious difference was the tour start - no FTP test this year to establish the required level of punishment. Following that was what seemed like a very untypical series of straightforward stages with just 1 video per day. The sequence of Nine Hammers, Local Hero, and The Rookie did however present plenty of tough riding. The real sting was in the tail though, or close to the tail at least. The queen stage on day 8 involved 3 sprint videos totaling 2 hrs and 25 minutes of high intensity suffering. It was no less brutal in practice than it looked on paper. After 7 days straight of training, it was a real slog. I started with the goal to try and get through at least the first one or two videos at 100%, with some leeway to ease up on the third if needed. In the end, I was foolishly pleased with myself at surviving the whole set without lowering the bar.

Luckily, after the 8th day beating I had two days of camping before tackling Stage 8. The 50 hour time window allowed me to do Stage 8 at lunchtime on Friday, and complete Stage 9 when home on Sunday evening.  It was definitely a kinder option on the body, but it was not an easy option for the mind. After a relaxing weekend kicking back with family, drinking beers, and generally not doing much it was a battle to get back on the trainer again to finish the tour. To be honest, I almost didn't. I don't recall what motivated me - possibly just plain stubbornness wanting to finish what I started.

Anyhow, I climbed back on the trainer and span it out. It was sweaty, grueling, and I fell short of the power targets on a couple of sprints. But overall, it was a decent effort and I was happy to have completed my 3rd straight tour. The real benefit, as I discovered in previous years, doesn't appear immediately but comes out gradually over the next few weeks. With some recovery and easier rides to rest the body, the legs bounce back stronger and faster than ever. It's too early to say whether I'll do next year's tour, but in all probability I will. In the end, they're a fun way of pushing one's limits at just the right time of year. 

Shortest of the qualifiers

I'm cheating again somewhat by recycling the report I wrote for Audax SA on the Cape BRM 200km. I'm already 2 blog entries behind, and this weekend is both the Junior Argus and the main Argus rides (more on that later). So some shortcuts are needed to avoid falling even further behind by next Rather than just regurgitating the official account though, I'll start with some thoughts and observations of my own.

The 6am start was quite a luxury for a change, albeit not one which was universally liked by all of the riders. Some would have preferred to be underway earlier and finish before the full heat of the day. Planning and agreeing the PBP qualifier routes took a fair amount of effort to get right. Having successfully ridden each of them in the 2014 series the smart decision was to stick to the same routes for the 2015 rides.

Starting out felt a little odd. Having ridden the toughest qualifying distances, here we were heading out on a ride marginally shorter than my first DC - a milestone ride which kicked my long distance cycling into gear more than two years ago. It was easy to be complacent, and we did set off at a cracking pace. Even with a puncture, we were at the first control not that long after it's official opening time. The pace backed off a little on to Darling, especially towards the end of the leg where my energy levels started to flag. In spite of that, even as far as the third control at Malmesbury on the way back, we were still making rapid progress. Here though, in hindsight I made a fuelling error. Rather than stoking up again, I figured the big meal we'd eaten in Darling would be fine and just opted for a ice cream and a Coke, some sipped and some in my bidon.

I pulled strongly out of Malmesbury, but with around 30km still to go the tank ran dry and the legs started to cramp. I suspect in fact it wasn't so much a lack of food, but the wrong fuel at the last control. I was on the downside of a nasty sugar spike, rather than actually running low on fuel. Either way, I limped along the last section with Peter kindly keeping me company. Both Theunis and Hendrik were still feeling strong and finished about 10 mins ahead of me. It was an enjoyable ride though, and yet another valuable lesson in the value of eating proper food, and getting ride pacing right. The 200km may be the shortest of all qualifiers - but it's still an endurance ride, and more than capable of kicking you in the cycling pants if you underestimate it.

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WC200 Report 17-Jan

WC 200km BRM, Stellenbosch
Paris-Brest-Paris 2015 qualifier
17 January 2015, 06:00
by Rob Walker

The 2015 Cape Audax events kicked off with the shortest of the SR Series rides, a 200km brevet. It seems word is slowly spreading about the local long distance events, with the largest field to date of 17 riders gathering at Vrede Wines for the 6am start.

Routing and timings were kept the same as those for the 2014 event, the only change being removal of the unnecessary outbound Malmesbury control. The later than usual start of 6am was set based on the opening time of the first control, the Du Vlei farm stall in Hermon. And a most welcoming oasis it provided as the initial stop for riders – providing not just excellent coffee and food, but even a handsome official stamp together with signature to grace brevet cards.

With the potential for hot and windy conditions developing during the day, riders opted to bypass a lengthy breakfast stop in favour of a quick cup of coffee and refuel, and an early depart for the next control. With no need to stop in Malmesbury, faster groups of riders reached Darling by mid-morning. As they returned along the R315, greetings and banter were exchanged with later riders still on their way out to the control. By lunchtime, all riders had made it to the Darling control, some choosing to stop for generous portions of burgers and chips at Café Mosaic next to the official Spa shop control in town. Sadly none had time to visit SA icon, Evita se Peron, before turning back toward Malmesbury.

Malmesbury Engen was the third stop, familiar now to riders as a control on 3 of the brevets. It seems our arrival is starting to become known to the staff too. Their reception was cheerful and helpful – providing receipts and signing cards, even though most opted this time not to stop in at the Wimpy for coffee and food as has become something of a custom on the longer rides.

What can be said about the section from Malmesbury back to Vrede? For some reason this leg appears on 3 of the 4 rides despite being – to borrow Chris van Zyl’s words  – “one of his least favourite stretches of road in The Cape”. Unfortunately, it is a prime link back to Vrede for any route northward. On the 200, this was where the price was paid for the 6am start, with most riders tackling this last 48km in the worst of the heat and a rather stiff headwind. Tail end riders on the longer brevets tend to navigate these last few Km in cooler and less windy conditions around dusk.

In spite of the heat and wind, all 17 riders finished inside the 13 hour 20 minute cut-off – with times being spread out across almost the whole window of opening to closing time of the Arrivée control. The fastest riders were home almost too early for the control opening, and the final rider rolled home around half an hour inside the closing time.

The distance of dreams

Three year's ago the madness started. Despite knowing almost nothing about Audaxing, or long distance cycling for that matter, the thought stuck in my head that I wanted to take part in Paris-Brest-Paris - the world's oldest organised bike ride. At a distance of 13 times further than I'd ever ridden, it was a preposterous idea really. As the clock ticked past midnight and 2015 rolled in, we are officially in a PBP year - the once distant dream is now just 7 month's and 16 days away.

 Of course I don't have an actual place reserved yet, and with interest in Audaxing growing rapidly around the world, there's no guarantee I'll manage to bag one of the 6,500 available places. I'd feel a lot more comfortable to have that Joburg 600km pre-qualifier on my side. Maybe the difference between being able to register on May 3rd rather than May 10th won't be significant, but it's a shame to take that chance. At least in the failure, a lot of valuable lessons were learned. They've come back to me many times on the Cape Audax rides of the last few months - in fact pretty much every time I've felt the urge to push the pace harder than I knew was wise. The simple fact of knowing that I have the strength and endurance to complete the longer distances well within the cutoff time as long as I stick resolutely to my own pace has been an enormous boost to morale.

Even with the added week before being able to register, dropping back to a 400km brevet for the pre-qualifier was a good call I think. I have Yoli to thank for that moment of clarity. Successive failures on 600km rides within the course of a couple of months could have been a disastrous setback to confidence. Whereas completing the shorter distance comfortably within the cut-off time restored a great deal of self belief. There was more to the ride than simply getting my pre-qualifier too. In a year of many great rides, the  Asparagus & Strawberries 400km can hold it's own as a wonderfully memorable event and one that I would definitely ride again given the chance. At times, especially in the early and late stages, it was rather more challenging than I had imagined. But ridden at my own steady pace throughout, it restored faith in my ability to endure and prevail at the tougher end of randonneuring. The long, largely solo dusk 'til dawn leg is still vividly imprinted in my mind: the hooting of owls and haunting call of a nightjar in the cold, damp woodlands of Thetford Chase; and the slightly surreal vision of the enormous, brightly lit, but somehow ghostly Lakenheath air-force base in the middle of the night.

2014 wasn't totally about getting in shape for PBP - OK, that's a lie, it was actually all about PBP. But at least it also provided an excuse to head off the tar and back onto the trails. It's both odd and wonderful how everything is inter-connected, and Trans-Baviaans is a perfect example. The basic idea in riding it was a way of staying fit through winter, and at the same time not becoming bored and burnt out from endlessly riding the same routes on road. But the inspiration had come several years before from my brother-in-law Hendri. His descriptions of this mega offroad marathon had put Trans-Baviaans on my bucket list. Left gasping at the top Pausing of even relatively tame climbs, I was rather awestruck at how anyone could tackle such a monster. And here's where the interconnections start to happen. Hendri is mountain biking again after many years away from the trails. He is doing so on my old Specialized Stumpjumper, which I only decided to sell because I had bought the Giant Anthem as a more appropriate machine for riding long distance offroad events. And the guy who sold me the Stumpy, Eugene, who I have hardly seen since I bought it, suddenly resurfaced to join us on the recent 600km Cape Audax. Take away any of those connections, and I might not have been lining up to ride Trans-Baviaans last August, and Hendri may not have rediscovered his love of mountain biking. The most beautiful part is how the bikes themselves fit too. I'm no downhill flyer, so the Stumpy's long travel forks and aggressive geometry were never really a match for me even though I enjoyed the setup. They suit Hendri's riding style and preferences perfectly though, whereas the Anthem is a mile-eating monster, perfect for my love of marathon distances. By the oddest of paths, we both ended up with the right bike in the end.

One aspect of qualifying for PBP which I'd always assumed was that there would be a Cape Audax series for local riders hoping to qualify. I'd read enough reports to know this had been the case for past PBP editions back at least as far as 1999 and possibly earlier. What I didn't expect was to end up quite so much in the thick of actually organizing the required 200km, 300km, 400km and 600km rides. Not that it's been a chore - in fact quite the reverse. Working over route ideas and understanding how to take them from ideas to actual events has been a lot of fun. Luckily we've had great support from our country co-ordinator, Eddie Thomlinson, in terms of what is both necessary and acceptable for a brevet to qualify as a BRM event. With his help, the small team of us locally have managed to pull off a complete Cape SR series for 2014 - although Nico stands alone in completing all 4 events as a rider. It's perhaps fitting the Nico should be our sole All Cape Super Randonneur too - since he's provided so much support for each of the rides, hosting the start and finish at his family's farm, and providing accomodation for us mid-way through the 600km brevet. Missing one of the rides was unavoidable for me, but I did at least manage to achieve my first Super Randonneur Series courtesy of the UK 400km.

In theory most of the hard work of the 2015 SR Series should be done, aside from the not-so-minor task of actually completing the rides. With the 400km and 600km already done, I'll need a further 2 of the remaining 4 events to complete the qualifying set needed for PBP. Obviously the ideal would be to achieve this with the 200km in January and 300km in February, but there are at least additional options beyond these in case of mishaps. Nothing is ever certain in Randonneuring, and one should never really plan further down the road than the next control, so I certainly won't be taking them for granted, or making the mistake I did in March of 2014 and under-estimating them. There's still a couple of extra incentives too - if I can complete 3 of the Cape brevets plus PBP, that would also equate to a Super Randonneur set for 2015. And I have a confirmed entry place for the 36One mountain bike event on 17th April. I'll only be able to use this if I don't have to take part in the 600km brevet the following weekend to make up for a missed or failed qualifier. I would of course give up the 36One place if necessary to keep the PBP dream alive, but I'd rather not. Trans-Baviaans used to lay claim to being the longest single stage mountain bike event in Sotth Africa. There's a narrow window before The Munga gets going where the 36One now holds that honour. It would be nice to take part and complete it whilst it is still the longest. Plus it will give the Anthem and I another healthy dose of off-road endurance riding.

The first few months of the year should prove interesting and challenging from a training perspective too. On the last few rides of 2014 I was already starting to feel the benefits of Erica's grand plan - strength from the hill intervals gradually beginning to translate into speed on everyday rides. My moving average for the last solo 50km ride of the year was just shy of 25km/h, the last third of which was into a significant headwind. That's not a speed which will win me any races, but it is significantly quicker than I was before and a welcome step towards the kind of fitness and preparation I'm aiming at for PBP and beyond.At some point during this year's blog entries I'm going to have to start to discuss what that 'beyond' represents - a dim and flickering, dream which is every bit as ludicrous and beyond my abilities as PBP was three years ago. It's just as firmly stuck in my brain though and until something shows me it's impossible, I suspect it's unlikely to budge unless I act on it.

For now, I'm not going to stray into such thoughts and plans further down the road than completing the dream that kicked off the whole endurance cycling obsession. I will be in Paris in August, and hopefully I'll be there for PBP. I do have an awesome fallback plan, and that will be to go to Euro Disney with Ben and Yoli instead. Having seen Ben wide eyed at the Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park over the Christmas holidays, I can honestly say it's not a bad consolation prize. It wouldn't be what I'd hoped, trained and planned for of course, but you can't take anything for granted in cycling, you have to hope for the best and just keep pedaling.

Tip of Africa 600

Writing multiple pieces on our Cape Audax  rides is becoming a bit of a habit. Yet again I find myself updating the blog after already creating reports for the Audax SA web site and my club newsletter. The latter is copied in below at the foot of this entry, and the former can be found here.

There's really not many factual aspects of the ride that aren't covered pretty thoroughly across these two pieces. But they do fall short in terms of this blog - being semi-official accounts for other purposes, neither really capture my feelings or experiences of the 600. That's a gap which I'll attempt to address now, hopefully without repeating too much of what's already been said.

For what may be the first time ever, I found myself not needing to sneak around the house at 2:50am when the alarm woke me. I could bang and crash around as much as I liked because Yoli and Ben had already gone away for the weekend - in fact that was part of the ride plan. We'd rented a beach house in Onrus for Yoli and her parents that I would be aiming to reach for my sleep stop. At 473km into the ride, it was an extremely bold plan. In perfect conditions it was a tough but marginally possible target. But with the strong winds forecast for the day it was already looking on the foolish side of bravery.

I was also a little worried for Theunis too. Having not exactly discouraged him from having a crack at the 600km, it wouldn't really very good form to drop him and push on hard. As it transpired though, that problem never even remotely arose. The first point we found ourselves trailing behind the main group was climbing Bains Kloof, and it was entirely down to me not Theunis. We left the Wellington control as a group, but within meters of pulling away from Peter Muller's car my rear wheel punctured. If there is such a thing as a good time for a puncture then it's at a control. But even with access to tools and a workshop pump the delay put us 10 or 15 minutes behind.

We made reasonable pace up the pass though, and a very decent speed through Slanghoek. By the time we reached Peter's 2nd roadside control we'd caught up most of the riders again, aside from Chris and Derek who were charging along up front. Emmie, Thys and Gerritt were kitting up and pulling out pretty much as we pulled in. We drank coffee, ate, and regathered ourselves with the rest of the guys before rolling out. From Rawsonville the wind and heat steadily picked up. As we turned right onto the R60, I could see my water bottles would need a refill before McGregor. I suggested to Theunis we quickly stop at the padstal just up ahead, and we both grabbed a quick coke and some cold water. What was left after filling both bidons went over my bandana and sun sleeves.

We were back on the road a few minutes later, and riding with ice cold arms and head made for a wonderfully comfortable next next few kilometers. Finally I seem to be learning how to manage heat without fading. The headwind was more troublesome, and yet again it was me rather than Theunis holding us back - at least a couple of times leading up to the last climb over to Robertson I fell off the pace. We caught up with Nico and Eugene just before the start of the town, but they chose to stop for lunch whereas Theunis and I pushed on to McGregor before eating. I'd expected to see the guys who were ahead coming back past us as we slogged our way into the heat and the wind, but they were only just leaving the control as we reached the town and pulled over for food. Peter's stint as safety driver was done at this point - needing to get back to his family for the weekend. He stayed and ate with us though before we all rolled out again.

This was perhaps the one control where we lingered a shade longer than we should have, but my glutes needed a rest. They'd been bothering me most of the morning. After a quick phone call with my coach Erica, we decided that lowering my saddle a couple of millimeters was worth a try. Whether the effect was real or in my head, it worked a charm and the problem never re-appeared. Sadly the wind was not so easily fixed - and as we turned right back in Robertson again, the rest of the leg to Bonnievale was spent battling. It had a leveling effect on all of our speeds too, we caught Nico and Eugene up front, and soon after, Daniel and Gerhard caught up with us. We rode into the Bonnievale as one group of six. All of us having ate lunch already at various places, we opted for the Spa in the middle of town for a quick control stop. A typical supermarket Audax stop - water, snacks, energy drinks or cokes. And on our way again. Sadly my prediction that we'd have a crosswind for the next stretch proved hopelessly wrong.

Once past the Stop/Go section around 10km out of town a pattern developed which would be painfully repeated for the next 65km to Bredasdorp - big rolling hill ahead, dropping to low gear and crawling up at a snail's pace fighting both slope and headwind, followed by too short a descent, and then the pattern repeated. Again, and again and again. It was uncomfortably the slowest and toughest 74km I have spent on a bike ride of any kind. I lost count of how many short breather stops we took at the top of the many rollers - it was at least 3 or 4 though. On one of these I was seriously flagging and needed most of a bottle of coke and a whole Pronutro bar to get some energy back in my legs.

Theunis too found his energy reserves exhausted over the last 10km into Bredasdorp. We were now already past the 8pm to 9pm arrival I had hoped we'd arrive in Aghulas. Audaxing is all about adapting or throwing out plans depending on what a ride throws at you, and that was clearly needed now. Neither of us could realistically push on another 40km without taking fuel on board, so instead of making for a bowl of pasta at the accommodation in Aghulas we opted for a dinner stop in Bredasdorp. A Spur served up just what was needed in the form of burgers, chips, and multiple coffees. Henri Meier tried to refuse us paying for his food, just as Peter had done earlier in McGregor. But we insisted - it was a completely inadequate token of gratitude for them driving safety for us, but at least it was something.

It was getting chilly as we headed out of the restaurant for the last short stretch to the tip of the continent. We may have looked odd as we stuffed newspapers under our cycle jerseys as we kitted up, but in the absence of a gilet it was a surprisingly effective substitute. No wonder Tour riders are often seen grabbing a paper from the crowd at the top of a climb to ward off the cold of a fast descent - it works! Compared to the previous section we were now fairly flying along - I took a rare glance at the stats on my Garmin a couple of times as we rode through the darkness. Our average speed was picking up again, now around 16.5km from what I recall. It wasn't great, but at least we'd be at the control before midnight.

Along one part of this long straight road my lights kept picking up pairs of little twinkling diamonds in the road - they were the eyes of frogs, hundreds of which were sitting or hopping in the road. It was rather hard to avoid running them over in places. Somewhere further on we saw an equally strange sight - coming towards us were what were clearly bike lights. My brain was obviously foggy by now from the day's exertions because they were alongside us before I could make sense of who on earth would be out riding at this time of night. It was of course our fellow Randonneurs - Emmie, Thys and Gerrit were making back up to Bredasdorp for their sleep stop.

Despite the late hour and my desire for a rest I was rather sad when we finally saw the lights of Struisbaai ahead - this had been a wonderfully serene and peaceful stretch in stark contrast to what had preceded it. I know I've often commented on how much I love the night time riding of Audaxes, and this leg was up there with the best of them. We'd been concerned over the narrowness of this piece of road when planning the route, but in the dark quiet night it had been simply delightful.

I was beginning to fret somewhat about how we would find the house at Stormsee - the flash of the Aghulas lighthouse grew closer and closer before I remembered I'd had the foresight to stick a Waypoint for it on my Garmin. We were scouting around the complex and car park when a door opened and a friendly face peeked out - clearly we'd not been nearly as quiet as intended. It turned out there was no need to worry anyway. All of the riders who had arrived ahead of us were still awake, variously showering, chatting, eating pasta, drinking beer, and generally relaxing. Nico, Eugen, Thys and Gerrit hadn't been far ahead of us on the road, so it perhaps wasn't surprising they were still up. Derek on the other hand had arrived 7 hours earlier - in fact he and Chris had been the only riders to get there in daylight and manage a selfie at the lighthouse as proof of passage. It was very sociable of him but I did wonder if he'd regret passing up the chance of all that sleep.

The pasta Nico's wife Valerida and her sister laid on for us was tasty, filling, and with perfect with a beer in hand. Daniel to my left looked seriously shell shocked - in fairness though, I suspect most of us did. I couldn't help noticing that Theunis passed up both food and beer, opting just for a couch and a coffee. It was a worrying sight. We'd stoked up pretty well in Bredasdorp, but I doubted it was enough to do more than fill the hole we had dug in our energy reserves. A small part of me was still considering sticking to my plan and pushing on to Onrus before sleeping - but by now it was a very small part of me. It would be a minimum of 7 hours more cycling, alone, through the night. And by the time I arrived there, it would be daylight and I probably would be beyond sleeping. Reluctantly I abandoned the plan, and accepted Nico and Valerida's kind offer of a towel for a shower, and a spare bed.

I'm not sure any amount of sleep has ever felt as short as the 45 minutes I managed to grab. It felt quite literally as if Valerida was waking us up moments after my eyes I had close. My phone confirmed otherwise though - it was 1am, we'd had our full allotment of sleep. It wasn't nearly enough, but it would have to be. The control close time was 1:41am and I had no desire to put myself behind the clock before we even started the remaining 260km home. I don't think I've ever enjoyed pasta with my breakfast coffee, or will be likely to again, but there in that moment it was just what I needed. Something warm and comforting before braving the dark and the cold. I encouraged Theunis to try some - but he was already on the way to the bathroom to throw up before I even had time to press the issue. The signs were not good, but despite his obvious suffering he kitted up and we wheeled out the front door as the other guys were starting to get themselves ready too.

We had time, and now wind with us, so we meted out a steady but not too taxing pace. Before long, Derek, Eugene and Nico passed us - but on the long straight road back to Bredasdorp, their blinking tail lights continued to be visible up ahead for the whole stretch up to the outskirts of town. In the quiet of the morning, I could sense Theunis gradually recovering strength as we rode along. We pulled into the 24 hour Engen in the middle of town before 4am, well ahead of the control close time. In the fluorescent glare of the garage shop we sat there like so many zombies, stuffing our faces with an assortment of junk snacks and drinks. I got some well deserved flak from Eugene about the toughness of the route so far - but at least from here we'd have the wind behind us most of the way home.

Dawn was just breaking was we rode silently through the town of Napier. We'd already crested a couple of decent sized rolling hills in the 10km or so after Bredasdorp, albeit with much less effort thanks to the helping breeze at our backs. Whether it was tiredness, or actually real, each roller after Napier seemed to get bigger and longer than the last. As the hills stacked up one after another, Theunis confidence that we were looking at the last before the turn to Stanford gradually subsided. To be fair though, as we reached the bottom of the dip beneath a particularly evil looking monster, he did in fact call it correctly - it was big, but it was the last. After the long grind to the top the 4-way stop was clearly visible at the foot of the wonderful snaking downhill ahead. 

We stopped a couple of hundred meters after the turn, at the top of a short sharp incline. We sat munching snacks and chatting for a few minutes - but mostly admiring the view. The boundary where rolling Overberg pastures gave way to fynbos clad coastal mountains was below us. And just beyond it was the majestic sweeping rise of the Akkedisberg Pass. It slightly surreal to be feeling eager to get down there and start climbing it after all of the painful hills which had slowed our progress since Bonnievale, but the feeling was there nevertheless. It lay there before us like some heavenly gateway to the coast beyond, and it was begging to be climbed. It didn't disappoint either - the herbal scent of the fynbos hung on the air as we wound up through the stunning scenery.

With a last couple of ramps, the worst of the hills were behind us. We rolled down to Stanford, swung right and headed towards Hermanus. With the wind behind, there was no breeze to deflect the rising heat of the day. It was still somewhere around 8am, and already uncomfortably warm - with no clouds in the sky, it was clearly going to be a scorcher. Without uttering a word, both Theunis and I had exactly the same thought for breakfast. In the middle of Hermanus we swung left and headed for Savannah Cafe. French toast and bacon for both of us, coffees for me, and milkshakes for Theunis. Not only had I missed the overnight stop with my family in Onrus, I was now missing breakfast too - I felt rather guilty. At least I knew that Yoli of all people understood that on a long and tough Audax you must make decisions in the moment to maximise your chances of finishing - and right now, food was that decision.

We at least had a plan to say hello at the Engen in Onrus - or would have, if I had sent the SMS that we were leaving the cafe to the right person. Instead though, I sent it to Nico - yet more evidence of my fatigued mental state. As a result, Theunis and I stood waiting for 10 or so minutes longer than expected until Yoli and Ben drove up the road. It was lovely to see them, but all too brief. We were ahead of the clock, but not by much, and needed to keep pressing on. In theory with the tailwind we should make good time, but the heat could be a factor as we rode into the middle of the day. Daniel joined us whilst we were waiting - it was disappointing to see him alone though. Gerhard had pulled out with a bad stomach. With is own ambitions on PBP, I knew what a bitter blow that must have felt. It served as a reminder that our ride was still far from in the bag.

We pushed on, but were barely out of the garage forecourt before Nico, Eugene and Derek came alongside too. Everyone's differing speeds and breakfast stops and ours had averaged out and we were six on the road again into Kleinmond, about an hour up on the clock. My temptation was to stop briefly and push on, but the guys clearly needed a bit longer, so we sat eating ice creams and chatting. Time was still on our side as we headed out again, but there was that faint ticking of a clock again just as it had been on LEL heading south back into England. I knew I was feeling strong, and Theunis seemed to be in great shape too - we needed to capitalise on that and keep moving.

On the rise up from Pringle Bay we had the joy of some company in the form of Peter, Adele and family - not just keeping an eye on our safety, but also snapping photographs and sharing the odd word of encouragement. It was a great feeling and clear evidence that we were close to home. Not so close to be past all danger though. I did panic somewhat when a badly maintained lavatory door in the Strand Caltex locked itself behind me. Visions of missing the cutoff time trapped in a loo flashed through my mind, fortunately the moment was over quickly as one of the pump attendants came to my aid. More potential trouble surrounded us through Strand itself in the form of some of the most absent minded and downright abysmal driving I've ever seen. It was as if every driver was drunk, had sunstroke, or both. I guess in the end though the fault was our own for trying to ride through one of the most popular sections of Cape seafront in the middle of scorching hot Sunday. What else do you expect but distracted idiots in cars?

It seemed somewhat strange that the final 30km were along roads so familiar to me - quite literally ridden 3 or 4 times a week sometimes. I don't ever remember riding them in such searing heat though. Add to that a severe case of hot-foot and I was seriously uncomfortable. I doubt Theunis was felling any better, but he was definitely somewhat stronger as we pulled out of Stellenbosch with just two remaining hills between us and the final control at the Klapmuts BP Garage. Having never experienced hot-foot before, I had no idea to alleviate it. Fortunately, Henri Meier and his greater experience in cycling matters came to my rescue at the stop. He doused both feet with cold water as I sucked on an ice lolly and downed one final Sterrie Stumpie bottled milkshake. Those last 10km were the first time I dared to allow myself to believe - with my previous 600km ending in a DNF, I just hadn't dared to jynx this ride.

Somewhere before the final left turn back to Vrede, Nico swung across from the other side of the road. They had opted for the longer but flatter route past Vrede to Klapmuts. He was concerned for Daniel and Derek, both now seriously suffering from lack of sleep and in danger of nodding off at the wheel. We discussed what was legal in the way of assisting them, Nico opted to ride alongside to keep them awake, with Henri available on the motorbike a far enough distance behind to not be actually helping, but still be available in case of emergency. My concern was for Nico - it was a generous and selfless act, but one which could cause him to miss the cutoff himself.

Luckily that didn't transpire. Theunis rolled in at 38 hours 43 minutes, myself at 38 hours 50 minutes, and Nico, Derek, Daniel and Eugene at just over 39 hours. All of us safely inside the 40 hour time window. The toughest of the PBP qualifiers safely negotiated, my first Super Randonneur Series, and the ghost of that Joburg 600 finally banished. Oh, and my dreams of riding the 36One in April still alive.

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Wannabees Buzz article 

600km, are you mad?

Sane individuals do not decide on a Thursday that they will enter a ride in two days’ time which is triple their previous longest distance (202km). Normally at the very least, their friends would talk them out of it. Sadly in this case fellow Wannabee, Theunis Esterhuizen, had asked exactly the wrong person for advice on whether he should ride i.e. me! As someone whose sanity when it comes to cycling has often been questioned, I of course encouraged him to come across to the dark side.

And dark side it was at 3am Saturday morning, as 11 hardly individuals gathered to tackle the distance, in spite of a not exactly inviting weather forecast for the weekend. Two of the riders had travelled down from Gauteng for the event – both looking to notch it up as a qualifier for Paris-Brest-Paris in 2015. We also had a larger than normal send-off committee too, with some riders’ family joining at the start, Peter Müller as safety driver for the morning, and Wannabee club-mate Hendrik Vermaak– who had pitched up at this unearthly hour to wish us all a good ride.

The cutoff time for a 600km Audax is 40 hours. Under normal conditions this is plenty of time for a leisurely ride, a few enjoyable food and drink stops, and 4 or 5 hours sleep somewhere around halfway. With the first blasts of a strong East-South-Easter already slowing our progress up Bains Kloof it was clear that may not be the case today. Theunis had not just picked the wrong person to ask advice about tackling the ride, he'd also picked completely the wrong 600km for his first Audax experience. At least he wasn't alone - two other brave madmen had also picked this to be their first long distance adventure, one who had clearly lost all sense and was riding a full suspension MTB with knobbly tyres.

Even with wind, we made good progress into the 3rd control point at McGregor, around 180km into the ride. And despite Eskom's best efforts, the cafe our safety driver had pulled up at managed to feed and water us with a superb cold platter and iced coffees. For a further 20km back to Robertson we continued to make good pace, helped by the slight downhill gradient, but then things changed. The roundabout at the end of town will be familiar to every recent DC rider, and it marked two significant milestones on our ride too. It was the point at which Theunis crossed into the unknown - every meter beyond that point marked his longest ride to-date. Rather less exciting was that it was also where we swung into both the heat of the day, and the full force of the headwind. From here on, as we slogged along the beautiful lane flanked with flowers and vineyards, our progress became markedly slower and tougher. Part way down this stretch a few of us hopped under lawn sprinklers to douse of the worst of the searing heat.

The 4th control point at Bonnievale was around 228km into the ride, and the last stop for food and water this side of the 5th control at Bredasdorp. Peter Nolan had kindly checked the Stormsvlei road conditions for us as far as the N2, but we'd omitted to ask him quite how lumpy this stretch was. Into a full headwind, the rolling hills were punishing. But they were nothing compared to what awaited us the other side of the N2. The sign indicating 50km to Bredasdorp was handily sited in the bottom of one of these monstrous rollers, with nothing but rising tar ahead. It would have been enough to break the spirit of even the hardiest of Randonneurs, so quite how Theunis managed to keep pushing on in spite of the harsh conditions was remarkable. We both had low spots on this section, but luckily they didn't coincide. Mine came first, and was fixed with a double sugar hit of Coke and Pronutro Bar. Theunis' came towards the end of the stretch. He was clearly short of fuel so we opted to pull into Bredasdorp Spur for huge plates of food and multiple coffees and milkshakes. We bade goodbye here to Henri Meier at this point too – he had kindly come out on his BMW motorbike to ride safety for us on this long and lonely section.

The worst was over for the first leg - we were 300km into the ride, with a flat 40km to go until the 6th control at Aghulas, and some very welcome time off the bikes. It was around 11:30pm when we pulled into the control, a wonderful beach house in the Stormsee complex, kindly laid on by one of our other riders, Nico Coetzee and his family. Not just a bed, but also showers, pasta, beer, and coffee. There's very little more a Randonneur could wish for just over halfway into a ride. Except for extra time. The wind had robbed us of 3 or 4 hours by this stage. The control close time of Aghulas was 1:41am. Our brevet cards were already signed, so in theory we could leave after the control closed, but it's a risky strategy - one serious mechanical, and the rest of the ride becomes a battle against the clock on tired legs. So we took the "sensible option", which was to opt for 45 minutes sleep before heading out again. Only in the world of Audaxing can sleeping for less than 1 hour out of 40 be called sensible!

It was obvious Theunis was battling with the idea of getting back on the bike - seriously nauseous, unable to face pasta for dinner or breakfast, or even keep a coffee down without chucking up. I'm not sure who was most surprised to see him mounting up, but he was there still pedaling as we headed North again back out of Aghulas. By now it was cold, with a slight drizzle in the air. But at least the wind was behind. A group of us were close together on the road by this stage. We watched the blinking tail lights of 3 riders ahead pretty much the whole way back up to Bredasdorp, and were a single group again by the outskirts of town. We rode into the Engen together and all 5 of us sat like zombies in the shop eating snacks, and drinking coffees and Sterrie Stumpies. It was just before 4am, and the sight of cyclists was clearly rather amusing to the few locals who stopped in to fill up their cars. I'm not sure they believed us that we were riding back to Stellenbosch, or that we had left there the morning before. Why would any sane person want to do that?

Our group fragmented again on the rolling hills through Napier, and on to the 4-Way stop where the route swung left over Akkedisberg Pass and down to Stanford. Theunis and I pushed on to Savannah Cafe in Hermanus for a proper breakfast, whereas Nico, Eugene and Derek opted for a food stop in Stanford. By the time we reached the official control point at Onrus though, speeds and stops had averaged out and we were one group again - also joined now by Daniel, who's riding partner Gerhard had pulled out around Bredasdorp with a bad stomach. It was a bit before 11am as the 6 of us turned left past Arabella and on to the familiar coast road home through Kleinmond. Well, familiar to most of us that is, but a first for Nico. Perhaps his enjoyment of it was a little diminished by the fact that he'd been sat on the bike now for more than 30 hours.

Just an Argus or so to ride, with a bit over 7 hours to do it in, and only 2 control points left - Strand and Klapmuts. Easy right? The problem of course is built-up fatigue in legs, body, and especially brain. Peter and Adele Nolan and family joined us around Pringle Bay and were a great source of encouragement, especially as the coast road was now busy with early Sunday afternoon traffic. They also snapped some great shots of our group riding up and over to Rooi Els. By this stage we were 550km into the ride, with under 60km to go.

We lingered a bit at the Caltex on the way into Strand, and it was only when Eugene remarked that we wouldn't be home before 5pm that I realised how close we were running the clock. One significant incident, and all of the effort of the last day and a half could be for nothing. For Theunis, it would mean no medal and not being able to say he'd completed a 600km Audax. For a few of us though, the consequences were even worse: a DNF of a Paris-Brest-Paris qualifier, meaning we would have to come back and do it all again next April. It didn't bear thinking about, so Theunis and I stuck our heads down and pushed on. On the two nasty little hills out of Stellenbosch on the R44, Theunis was pulling much more strongly than I was able too, arriving at the BP Garage a minute or two ahead of me. Henri Meier had joined us again, to see us over the last few kilometers. A great comforter to ward off the threat of a mishap at this late stage, and also a source of relief for me as he poured cold water over my feet and alleviated a nasty case of hot-foot that had been building up the last few hours.

It was a beautiful evening - so close to home, and with more than an hour in hand, it was actually possible to relax, look up and enjoy the scenery bathed in an orange evening light. A lot of thoughts go through one’s mind on the last couple of kilometers of such a long ride. As I swung left onto the R304 and the finish at Vrede Wines came into view, I'm willing to bet I know what was going through Theunis' mind just ahead of me on the road.

"I've done it!"

Those were the exact same words I heard him whisper under his breath on his first DC as he crested the top of the last of the three bitches. Now, 3 years on and 3 times the distance, I hope he shouted it out loud this time though. His official time for the 609km was 38 hours 43 minutes - mine was around 7 minutes longer. Not content with seeing us off, Hendrik had returned to congratulate us at the finish too. As we both sprawled on Vrede’s tasting room steps, Henri Meier came in too followed by the remaining group of 4 riders. 10 riders out of 11 home within the cutoff time, an astonishing effort given the conditions. It’s hard to imagine how the 1st rider, Chris van Zyl, had managed to complete the course in a shade over 26 hours – but he is the South African record holder for Paris-Brest-Paris.