Total Focus
The most technical section of the stage looms, and while I’m
looking forward to it, some dudes ahead of us seem intimidated, grabbing brakes
unnecessarily and trying to dab their way down rock-lined chute. A fight almost
ensues when another rider pushes past Brendan and almost sends him headlong
into a tree in that very chute. Not cool – but I stay on my bike and sit tight
for the ride down.
 |
| Approaching the N1 highway on the race's 'Queen Stage' |
Riding the trails of the Cape Epic under race conditions
demands total focus. Letting one’s mind wander can be costly; the scenery is
breathtaking, but the mind is clouded by fatigue, the physical senses dulled by
the pounding and shock of the cumulative off-road kms. The best riders have
solid fundamentals to fall back on when taking on even the most basic of
obstacles, and they can afford to scale their mental energies accordingly; the
demanding obstacles call upon all their reserves of commitment and focus...
... shutting out all other distractions.
This is riding in the here and now; all other worries and
cares fall away; all that matters is staying rubber-side down and moving
efficiently and with minimal wasted energy. I feel this taking place in my
mind’s eye several times, but it is a Zen-like sensation. I hear voices in my
head reminding me to keep the elbow out, to keep the eyes constantly tracking,
to keep the body dynamic and the flow going. I chastise myself every time I
mis-cue the gear shifts and speed pedaling out of corners, when less brakes
would have given me more momentum and less need to pedal.
The technical climbs are the real energy zappers – and I set
the goal of not letting myself walk if I can help it. The bike seems to stall
on some of the steepest and most technical climbs, but these same climbs are
populated with scores of random spectators sheltered under hats, sunglasses,
and umbreallas, screaming encouragement and occasionally giving you the odd
running shove up the trail. Lots of riders walk, but i'm a stubborn person, and i find fun in cleaning up each steep climb without dabbing. It is absorbing stuff....
When the stage is finally done, a huge sigh of relief seems
fitting, the end seems so close now. But as Brendan reminds, me, nothing is
certain till the final line is crossed.
 |
| Blessings from Exxaro mascot at the start and finish line! |
Stage 7 – Our MTB Family
We have to fire on this stage if we want to maintain our GC.
We decide to travel light: less gels, relying more on drinks, hitting the
caffeine early and regularly; moving through transitions; and above all
enjoying ourselves on this final Stage of our journey.
A closer study of today’s course profile reveals a route
that plays once again quite strongly to our strengths. Numerous climbs and dips
and loose flat turns means plenty of acceleration and gapping chances before
reaching sweet stretches of singletrack. The bigger-sized teams would find this
one hard, we surmise.
 |
| BH cresting the final climb of the entire race. Super views from this very vantage point! |
The stage goes by quickly, the final climb is a beauty – a
sapphire coastline framed against a clear blue sky – adorned with towering
skyscrapers and rows of houses - gleams in the distance below us as we crest a
grassy hill awash with purple wildflowers. The sunlight bathes us, unhindered
by any clouds, as we rock our weight backwards over the rear wheel, raising
clouds of dust as we lose altitude. The final gravel road descent is
characteristically fast – tinged with a hint of regret: I do not know when I
will get a chance to ride at such speeds downhill and descend with such
conviction off-road again.
The grand finish line, when it comes, comes too soon.
Brendan and I agree to roll in, linking hands and capturing the moment on
video. We make sure we savour our finish. We have conquered much to get to this
moment, and revel in it we must.
The race organization makes a point to have the top racers
give out finisher’s medals to all participants who file past them. We get a
chance to meet Florian Vogel, Jose Hermida, and Rudi Van Houts and personally
shake their hands. Jose drapes the coveted finisher’s medal over my helmeted
head.
Smiles all around!
 |
| Our super threesome team! |
It is a glorious day to finish the toughest mountain bike
race I have ever done; my family finds me as I buzz with anticipation in the
finish chute. Brendan and Kate are reunited at last, the week’s racing finally
over. Our picnic hampers, bursting with the best food available from
Woolworth’s, are attacked with gusto. All around us, a carnival atmosphere
reigns as riders, mostly in teams but some as soloists, roll home, having
completed their epic journey. It is a bittersweet feeling, regarding the masses
of filthy, tired cyclists that we are a part of.
Most have triumphed, but not without setbacks; some have
been beaten down, others all but annihilated by injuries, illness, equipment
failure, the brutal course conditions, or weakness; but all have fought. And
never alone. The Cape Epic is a team event for a purpose, but it is the greater
community spirit beyond just the two persons that seems the most significant
now. The extended MTB family, from the scions that are the elite athletes, to
the giants of the industry, sponsors, and the race organization, to the army of
support staff and workers, to the families and friends that turned up to give
their riders their rousing backing.
 |
| Be serious now... this beer is well-deserved. |
We are just two - but on that finish line on that polo field
in Lourensford - we bask in the glory that our extended family now shines upon
us, even if just for a few minutes, just a fraction of a day.
Our quest for Cape Epic glory closes its penultimate
chapter, for now.
No comments:
Post a Comment