Category: Distant Words

One more day to go in my latest Alpine adventures and up above us in the valley (although currently hiding behind clouds) is the Eiger. Tomorrow we’ll be riding up to it and it will mark the end of a classic week riding through some of the most spectacular parts of Switzerland.

The weather hasn’t all been sunshine and blue skies. We’ve had a couple of days of rainstorms and drizzle, but it hasn’t dulled our enthusiasm for the riding. It’s just added an extra dimension to it. The penalty for failure to negotiate wet rocks and roots in places has been a long fall off the mountain. No time for thinking about anything else here other than the next line, the level of grip the tyres have and the amount of feathering the brakes need.

It’s given me a lot more confidence in my riding and I’ve altered the setup of the bike a lot since I’ve been here. This morning I decided that 22psi wasn’t quite enough tyre pressure, but it undoubtedly helped me ride a lot of wet technical sections yesterday and the Calderdale favourites of Kenda Blue Groove and Nevegal tyres have proven superb options.

After two weeks pounding the Fox F32s and Chris King hubs they are going to need a service, but they’ve performed brilliantly on the Ti Deluxe – a bike that has propelled me up the climbs and only slightly left me wanting more travel, rear suspension and clearance for bigger tyres on the downs.

It’s hot in the Alps at the moment yesterday I succumbed to heatstroke and sat out the last downhill run back into our current village, Samoens. The previous two days had seen us based in Morzine and sampling the Singletrack trails on the surrounding mountains, including an excellent day riding out of Champrey, including it’s mind boggling UCI downhill course with an average gradient of 38% (aka the Hill of Death).

Today we ascended the valley to the chairlift up to Les Vagnys and from there tackled loose gravel and steepness to make the tough climb to the shoulder of the valley. The descent after lunch was fast and loose and after launching off a rocky drainage channel the landing turned out to be an unforgiving rock garden. There was no chance to scrub off the speed needed to straighten up.

Next thing I know there’s been some unscheduled tree hugging (in a bouncing off kind of way) followed by a good couple of seconds hurtling through the air before tucking into a ball for the impending crash landing. The commando roll degenerated into a desperate bid not to roll of the mountain all together.

Fortunately mother nature had conveniently placed a rather substantial tree in the way which provided an effective, but uncomfortable stopper. After a few seconds working out where I was in relation to the rest of the world, I was back on my feet. After ascertaining that all my limbs were a) attached and b) still working, I started looking for the bike.

Everyone else had by this time twigged that I’d had an off so there was quite a welcome party to ensure that I was okay. The bike was some 15m higher up, but still way off the trail and once I’d lugged it back up onto the trail it emerged that I’d twisted the bars and buckled the front floating disc rotor spider.

Straigtened up it kind of went through the calliper and it was a final tentative descent with a front brake that needed constant pumping to the bottom. Here we really had a chance to take in the massive cirque known locally as the “End of the World” with its stunning waterfalls and panoramic views. On the way back to the Chalet, Wally was unlucky to have an errant rock rip his rear mech off his bike and we ended up pushing him home.

For those with any energy left the final run of the day was true alpine Singletrack. Exposed drops, roll ins drop offs, jumps, rocks, roots and a ribbon of trail snaking its way through forests and meadows. It was a chance to prove the bottle for this riding was still there and enjoy a cool beer or two at the bottom. Chamonix tomorrow, it’s going to be ace!

Two riders went. Two rode. They climbed and took tips from the pros. They showed the South Africans how to ride downhill fast and without using their brakes (and taught them something about good tubeless setups). One ended up being rescued from the side of the trail and was hospitalized. After two DNFs, one finished. Now it’s over what comes next remains open to debate.

I am out of the race. Yesterday’s ride just exhausted any reserves I had left and I was running on fumes from just after the first water point. Although we made it over the last big climb, heavy traffic (which meant pushing rather than riding) and heavier legs made riding hellish.

Although we left waterpoint two, after about 50m it was clear that I was running on empty and turned back and dropped out. As one of the last competitors, it was a make or break decision and I decided to walk out rather than get med-evac’d again. Tyrrell rode a superb final section and finished in good time. I am finding it hard to come to terms with being out of the race. All I can think of are all those emotional clips of pro riders dropping out of Le Tour.

After yesterday’s diabolical stage, I was given permission to continue by the fantastic medical team here. Tyrrell and I dug deep again to finish in the heat and burning sun. We are now half way and have each burned somewhere in the region of 10,000 kcal per day. The riding today was very dusty desert singletrack and jeep track and burned the legs when trying to power through it or gave added danger to cornering on the 30mph+ descents. Massive thanks go out to the Chris King distributor here for sorting out my rear hub after the race and working well into the night to keep people riding.

I dug deep today. Some where in the pain cave there was a determination to keep pushing or die trying. I don’t want to get too philosophical, but I found out a lot about myself and my mental toughness today. Unfortunately, as being stretchered into an ambulance and taken the last 30km of the race to hospital proved, my physical ability to cope with race pace in 40 degrees desert heat didn’t match.

Tyrrell earned legendary status for making it home under the 10 hour cut off. My time in hospital meant I missed dinner, so with another 6,600 kcal of spent energy coming largely from burning body fat today, I will be looking to get some serious carbs and protein on board tomorrow.

Two days, 15 and a half hours riding, 4,900m climbing and about 235km into this race, deservedly called an Epic. The pros are now some 6 and a half hours ahead, but our work today moved us up from 351 to 310 in the general classification. It’s hot, hot, hot here and suffering is high on the agenda. Right then, time for a massage…

So we’re registered, our bags have been sent ahead to the finish and we are now living out of the “everything must fit” Adidas kit bags. Food and drink, riding kit, post race clothes, sleeping bag and campsite gear. Everything in a bag each.

For lunch we stopped off in a local bar here in Knysna and chatted to some fellow riders. The combination of my Ti Deluxe and Tyrrells’ stickered up pseudo IF have caught a lot of attention. It turned out that the Californian guys we were chatting to were numbers 153-1 and 153-2, immediately behind is in the original listing. A bit weird! Tim is a fellow Indy Dan owner, but the two of them are riding 29ers here.

If all goes to plan and we wake up tomorrow at 5.30am tomorrow’s post will feature news of the days racing. Keep and eye out for Andrea’s Canadian bloke Karl Yeh and his buddy Mike Jacoby riding as The Weapons of Mass Destruction – 418-1 and 418-2. Tomorrow’s 2,660m starts with a 20km climb up from sea level, so we’ll soon find out how we match up to the rest of the field.

Yesterday after landing in Cape Town we had made the drive up the coast to Port Elizabeth. There were a number of stops along the way including Hermaneus for breakie, Knysna for lunch and Jeffreys Bay (home of Billabong surfing) on route.

After checking out the beach, getting some last bits and pieces and a bit of sight seeing, Tyrrell and I set out on our first ride tonight. We did a loop known as The Marine – a stunning coastal blast with the setting sun at our backs, but against an evil headwind. It was only as we approached the bend that took us onto the Sea Front after the University of Port Elizabeth that the wind swung around and pushed us home.

The whole ride on tarmac was big ring stuff that didn’t let is drop below 20mph and as we wound up coming into town our legs told is we were doing over 30mph. It was a good chance to practice some through and off work and share the tow, but as the sun quickly dropped below the horizon we still had a high speed 20 minute run through the streets of town and past the townships.

Stories over the last few days of riders being mugged for their bikes (or shot) along the roads which we were now making a lightless dash provided an added incentive to keep heavy legs loaded with lactic acid turning. As we pulled back into the drive of Tyrrell’s brother in law, it was pitch black. The sun sets quickly here, so there was no time for a leisurely cruise home.

Tomorrow we drive over to Knysna and on Friday preregister for the race. South Africa has a certain appeal, not just because some of us have just escaped from a northern part of England where there was still snow on the hills, but because there is a real sense of open wilderness here.