Wednesday 18 August 2010

Posted by Velouria Posted on 17:02 | No comments

Trans Baviaans 2010

The annual Trans Baviaans bike race from Willowmore to Jeffery's Bay saw The Soggy Bottom Boys reuniting for another stab at the 230km mountain bike route. While we tend to get on quite well as a team, there are always several areas that cause a little added tension. Inevitably, the first point of concern is the team name, and like most things in life, people are very quick to criticise, but rather slow in offering any alternatives. Having had to endure names like The Soggy Bottom Boys, The Tartrollips etc, John was eager to give us a name that we could be proud of. Unfortuantely, the best he could come up was
As benevolent dictator for life of the Baviaans team, I could not possibly accept such half hearted attempts. And I certainly took offence at being labelled a whiner (I also wasn't quite sure who the weight watcher was). Since we were going to be two 29ers, I thought "Little John and his Merry Men" was quite fitting (and as it turned out, a little prophetic too). 

After many years of great service from our usual seconder, Bonte, we welcomed a new guy to the team - Freddie.  Freddie is an avid mountain biker with some good results, a blog, a broken bicycle, and an Epic entry. We still  aren't quite sure why he volunteered to put up with us, but whatever his motivation, he did a great job.
It looks downhill, but it really isn't
We spent the night in the local school's hostel and after the mattress thievery of last year we had been promoted to real beds in a corner room. Luxury. Apart from the odd bit of faffing and fiddling with bikes and equipment, we all got a good night's sleep and were well rested for the race. I had organised the tops, and since I know how much John (and his wife) likes tight yellow tops I had a special treat for him. I reckon we could have gotten him to wear it with a little bit of persuasion. Our real kit were the trusty tops.
Sexy in yellow
With everything packed, we said farewell to Freddie, and would see him again 8 hours later near Patensie. We were a little better organised this year, and managed to get quite close to the front of the start pen, where we proceeded to do the usual pre-race suss of the potential competition. This is an art that we have perfected over the years. Look at the bike, look at the rider, look at his legs, look at his kit, look for a camelback, look for accessories on the bike. Repeat as many times as required.
The area we were riding in
At ten o'clock we got underway and made good progress riding fast, but not too fast. Imagine our surprise then when we rounded a corner to see a bunch ahead of us, and then nothing in front of them. Could that be the leading bunch? I have never even seen the lead bunch at Baviaans before, so this was rather special. It got even better when we realised that we were catching the lead bunch without too much effort. In fact, it looked like they were freewheeling. We eventually rode onto the back of the bunch, and were quite surprised at the lack of pace, and so, before too long, Little John and his Merry Men had two riders on the front of the bunch, both on 29ers, leading the Trans Baviaans race. A dropped chain had Craig and I off the back, but we quickly rejoined and went straight back to the front.

We led the bunch into Checkpoint 1, got some juice and coke, and were out in a flash. Just as the bunch was reforming I heard the sickening sound of air escaping from a tyre. A quick check to make sure it wasn't my tyres (and lots of relief) before looking at Craig. He had a hole in his rear tyre, but we quickly plugged and bombed it and were back up to speed in no time, and in the bunch shortly after that.

The pre race fiddle and faff
For the next 60kms, Little John and his Merry Men set the pace - Craig being a bit of a TV slut and riding off the front on his own, with the rest of us following. Nelly, my 29er, was certainly proving her worth and was making short work of the rolling hills. With the bunch starting to swell a little, I decided that Craig had showed off enough and started to close the gap to him. The immediate effect was that the bunch went from about 15 teams down to 7. Not only were Little John and his Merry Men in the lead bunch, we were making the racing and lead everyone into Checkpoint 2. We knew our time at the front was now up, as the hills now lay ahead of us, and the 29ers aren't the quickest up the climbs.

With the temperature getting up to 33C we started the first big climb of the day, riding a good pace with everyone still looking good. We crossed the summit of the climb together, although the same cannot be said about reaching the bottom of the descent together, my descending skills still letting me down. Checkpoint 3 awaited us, and after some sosaties, potatoes and coke we set off for the Mother Of All Climbs up to Bergplaas and Checkpoint 4. 
I like the guy in green checking us out
A motorcycle marshal told us we were just five minutes behind the leaders which surprised us a little. As we started the early slopes of the M.A.C., I started to feel a little funny. Something wasn't right. My legs felt ok, but my heart rate was slowly climbing, and my stomach was starting to act up. I hoped it was nothing serious, something that a good burp would solve, and I could be on my way, but as I progressed the feeling in my stomach got worse and worse. Thinking it was dehydration I tried to drink more, but each time the aches got worse. Thankfully, I spotted a water tank on the side of the road from the recent road works on the M.A.C. and after a quick check found it to be full of fresh water. I only managed to get one gulp down before the evacuation order was given and all evil was told to leave my body. I never knew evil was bright orange with bits of potato in it, but I certainly felt better after the purge. One or two vehicles came past me as I was ridding my body of evil, and so as not to show any sign of weakness, I pretended to be doing some stretches. I filled my bottle with water, hopped on my bike and was back on way.

Cool calm and collected
My team mates had deserted me before my exorcism, and Craig must have been a little worried as he came back to find me and offer a bit of assistance. Nothing was more welcome than the short push he gave me up to Checkpoint 4. I grabbed the other elixir of life (tea is the original elixir of life) - coke - and downed a whole bottle, had some snacks and was ready to go. We flew down th Big Dipper, some of us a little slower than others and eventually got back onto 29er turf - flatlands and rolling hills. Eager to make up for my bad showing on M.A.C. (again), I tried to help out as much as possible with the pace setting. We were still doing extremely well - at least an hour ahead of our previous best, and sitting in 7th place overall. In the past we have always arrived at Checkpoint 5 as the sun sets, but this year we rolled into the checkpoint in broad daylight.
Freddie at work

Freddie was there to welcome us, and was exceptionally organised. He had convinced his family to join him in supporting 3 sweaty, smelly, strangers. We got naartjies, juice, water, potatoes and all our goodies laid out neatly on a blanket. I needed to take a Gu, and inevitably this is followed by some gagging and dry heaving as I struggle to convince my stomach that the Gu is not evil, and very much required, so I had to put on a brave face and conceal any gagging for Freddie's family. I am not too sure how well I succeeded.

Back on the road, we had the last big climb of the route left - The Never Ender. This climb got its name from the fact that usually you end up climbing it at night, and because of all the twists and turns, can never see the top. It feels like you are going up hill for ever. However, in the daylight, it is a much different experience, and rather pretty. We made good progress again, my legs were feeling strong, although there were some cramps about, but nothing that a bit of teeth clenching couldn't solve. My stomach was still a little dubious, but we had reached a compromise - I would't give it any more energy juice, if it promised to accept a Gu or two. As the sun set, we finally got to use our lights that we had been carrying since Checkpoint 4, and not long afterwards, we arrived at Checkpoint 7. (Alert readers will have noticed that I skipped a checkpoint there - checkpoint 6 was an unmanned checkpoint not really worth a mention).
Jeffery's Bay - our Siren
Freddie and his family saw to our requests once again, and we were off - the lights of Jeffery's Bay just over the horizon and calling us like Sirens - we just hoped there would be no crashing into rocks. Despite the tired legs and fragile stomach we pushed hard, keeping the pace high and making full use of the 29ers. As the brightness of the lights of Jeffery's increased, so too did our white line fever. Little John and his Merry Men were flying, and we crossed the line in 9h25 - in seventh place. We were over an hour faster than our previous best time.
Smiles all around
Freddie was there to welcome us with beer. It is such a pity that he wants to ride Trans Baviaans next year. Hopefully he can pass on his expert knowledge to a worthy recipient.

Little John and his Merry Men, and seconder extraordinaire Freddie
We were a little lost at having finished so early - in previous years it was simple - you ate, showered and went to bed, but we had loads of time to kill, and not that much to eat, so we ended up watching The Guru on TV before finally going to bed on what had been a fantastic day's racing. 
Enhanced by Zemanta


Post a Comment