A student’s
company had organised a charity team for the Pebbles Foundation for the 2014
Argus. After much consideration, I decided, to heck with it, I’ll enter, I
mean, what’s 109km.
As one of
the team members, I was required to raise at least R2000 for the charity, which
I did (thanks to those who donated!), and wear the team shirt (woohoo, free
shirt!).
On Thursday,
the wind forecast wasn’t looking good. 30kts, gusting 40kts, and a South Easter
to boot. Lekker.
The night
before the race, the wind was still pumping in Somerset West. I had told myself
that if the wind was howling on Sunday morning, I wouldn’t even bother going
through to Cape Town. But then I realised I had been eating so much, that if I
didn’t cycle the race, I’d need to do a lot of other exercise to burn all the
calories I had consumed.
So when
Sunday morning dawned windy and chilly, I donned my sexy cycling shorts, tired
Hi-Tec tekkies, and Pedal for Pebbles shirt, and duly made my way to Cape Town.
It was cool passing countless cars, all with bikes loaded on the bike, and
bleary-eyed occupants in cycling attire making their way to Cape Town.
We pulled in
near the Cape Town Convention Centre, and went through our final prep. Tyres
pumped up (my rear tyre had a slow puncture. Excellent), food sorted, and
bottles containing water and energy drinks secured in their holders.
After
meeting up with the rest of the team, we made our way through the first
checkpoint. Word of advice, invest in a pair of arm-warmers; it was freezing in
the shadows of the buildings, and there was a gale force wind adding to the
chill factor.
After some
waiting around, we made it through the second checkpoint, and stood around
there and waited. And waited. And waited. Luckily the sun was rising above the
buildings, and it was slowly starting to warm up. All this at just before 9am.
And then we got word that the first riders were crossing the finish line. Crazy.
Eventually
the group moved to the start line, where we waited some more. Photographers
moved through the crowds, taking snap shots (including one where I had just
taken a huge bite of an energy bar).
There was a 10 minute delay, in order to give the bunches ahead of us
time to spread out. The wind was working its magic. While waiting, I heard one
guy complaining to his friend that he had already had two punctures before the
race even started. Ouch.
And then, at
about 0910, we were off!
Everyone
spread out right from the start, and it wasn’t long before I had lost the rest
of my team (I wish I could say I pulled ahead, but unfortunately I think I was
right at the back).
The start
involved a climb. Pace yourself, don’t push it. Save your energy for later. Use
granny gear if you must, but just keep pedalling.
Before I
knew it we were on the M3. Woohoo! First climb done; I had been expecting a lot
worse.
Spectators
were on the side of the road, cheering us on. One guy had us all laughing (and
some of us swearing) when he shouted “Don’t worry! You’re almost at the
finish!”. I suppose that technically, we were near the finish, which was behind
us at the Green Point Stadium.
There was
even one of those doomsday people, ringing his bell and telling us there was
only 1 month left to live. Thanks dude.
‘Am I really
doing the Argus?’ constantly ran through my mind.
And then we
hit Wynberg Hill. Or, as all the posters on the lampposts said “Whine berg
Hill”. The first big climb. It was awesome hearing the shifting of gears and
clucking of parts as everyone started shifting to an easier gear. And some very
great people were blasting “Final Countdown”. That gave a lot of us the drive
to motor up the hills.
After
Wynberg, we had a nice long downhill. Nothing like speeding down a hill at over
50km/h, while surrounded by cyclists. It’s exhilarating. And scary. All you
need is for one person to swerve into you, or wipe out, and you’ll be smeared
along the tar before you know it. Speaking of tar, the roads were awesome! I
mean, how often does a pleb like me get to cycle along the M3.
After the
downhill it was flat(ish) towards Tokai. With a water station coming up, I
decided it was time for a loo break. That was the most unhygienic toilet I’ve
ever had the misfortune of using. But at least I could focus on the race
properly now.
Before I
knew it we were in Muizenberg, with people cheering us on. In the beginning it
was like “Oh this is cool! Smile for the people. Yay, happy happy!”. But that
slowly turned to “Okes, you aren’t the ones in this race. It isn’t actually
easy”. And then it became “Easy for you to say, sitting in your lawn chair with
a beer”, and the worst was the smell of braai’s, and boerewors rolls. I was
ready to kill for a boerie roll.
‘I can’t
believe I’m doing the Argus!’
It was lekker
riding along the coast though. With a stop in Simons Town for a marie biscuit
and a fresh coat of sunscreen, I was feeling revived. Good thing too, because a long climb lay
ahead. Not sure what it was. Smitswinkel? Somewhere near the top there was an
ABSA (I think) trailer, with people sitting inside, and their legs sticking
out. The caption read something like “You look like you could use a new pair”.
Clever.
And then on
to Misty Cliffs. Beautiful scenery. Perfect blue-green sea. But I was over
taking photos at this point; I’d seen it enough from the air. 47km left. Almost
there.
 |
| Still smiling! |
Noordhoek next. I was almost taken out by a
member of the PnP team. We had just gone down a hill, and it was levelling off
with quite a sharp right turn. This bright spark tried to overtake a group of
us by going on to some gravel. At about 40km/h. I heard shouting and saw his
front wheel coming towards my rear wheel out the corner of my eye. I was
grateful I had kept my speed up and managed to stay ahead of him.
And I don’t
think any of his teammates stopped to help. Quite a few people complained about
the PnP team.
By this
stage, most people had settled into a good rhythm. We were constantly
over-taking each other, and falling back, and so on. The KWV team often came
past me; I’d be chugging along merrily, and the next thing I was surrounded by
a sea of red KWV shirts.
Through
Noordhoek, and the spectators were spurring us on “Chapmans Peak, it’s all
downhill from there!” and there were poster with “Are you a happy chappy?” all
along the road. Well, I was happy until I rounded a corner and saw what a long
climb it was to the top of Chapman’s Peak. At least there wasn’t any wind.
‘Ha, I’m
doing the Argus!’
A long
climb, stick to granny gear and just keep the pedals turning. I think it took
me a good 20 minutes to reach the top. I was overtaken by a girl on a
uni-cycle...
At the top
of Chapman’s, we had a good view of Hout Bay below. And the beautiful twisty
road that lead down to it. Unfortunately for us it was windy on this side. So
much so that we had to pedal downhill. The wind also hit from the side,
threatening to send you flying off the road. So I kept my speed low and did my
best to keep my bike from being swept out from under me.
 |
| Top of Chapman's Peak. Not smiling anymore! |
Hout Bay.
One more hill and then it would be smooth sailing. Suikerbossie, the hill
everyone ranted about, saying how horrible it is. It’s not a tough climb, but
by this point you’re tired, the cramps are starting, and a climb is the last
thing you need. Near the top there were “angels” (people wearing angel wings)
ready to give you a push.
I don’t know
how long it took, but I made it to the top of Suikerbossie. And I was so happy,
because it was supposed to be downhill and flat. But no one told us we’d have a
headwind. All the way to the finish line. Camps Bay was covered in posters “Welcome
to Cramps Bay!”. Too right they were.
15km left. I
can do this. I’ve done 15km before. I’m almost there.
10km. There
is a hill. Going up. They said it was flat. Liars!
5km. I
wanted to shout with joy! I was almost there!
1km. Good
thing I didn’t shout with joy and tell everyone we were almost there; my odo
was sitting on 108km when I saw a sign saying 4km to go. I was feeling
finished. And when I saw my odo was wrong, I felt deflated.
4km. Cruel
world. I want this to end!
Final push
to the finish. Come on. Go. Go. Go. And there are photographers there, telling
you to smile. No you fool, I’ve just spent almost 7hrs on a bicycle, I don’t
want to smile!
Over the
line. Yes! Keep moving forward. Don’t stop. Don’t fall over.
At last. It
was over. My legs were sore. My arms were sore. Hips, shoulders, ankles, even
my jaw. I collected my medal. And a Coke. And I found a place to sit down,
grateful to sit on something wider than a bicycle seat. And I savoured the fact
that I had just completed the Argus.
And then I
was told I had to cycle another 2km to get to where my lift was parked. Eina!
And on the
drive back home, I sat quietly, revelling in the fact that I was done. I had
actually done it!
The next
morning, I woke up wondering if it had all been a dream. And then I moved, and
my screaming muscles confirmed that I really did cycle the Argus.
 |
| Me, sporting my hard-earned medal! |
Observations
from a Newbie...
- - Buy arm warmers.
- - Don’t stress about having two bottles of water,
and a camelback, and and and. You can fill up your bottles with water, Powerade
or Coke at one of the water points.
- - Don’t drink too much Coke; the fizz might end up
fizzing up everywhere...
- - If you take energy bars and chocolates, open
them so that you can easily grab them and take a bite, without trying to open
the wrapper while screaming down a hill.
- - Don’t try drink water from a bottle while going
up or down a hill, rather drink from a Camelbak if you have one, or wait until
it flattens out.
- - Sunscreen. Lots of it. Use the water resistant
stuff
- - Keep a steady pace. Don’t worry about being over-taken;
it’s how the flow goes.
- - The climbs aren’t THAT bad; just keep the pedals
turning. I came to dread the downhills; once I stopped pedalling, the cramping
started. And all I wanted to do on the downhills was to stand. But if I stood,
my legs would stop working, and start cramping. If I sat and slowly pedalled,
my bum would scream at me. It was a lose-lose situation.
- - The worst bit about the climbs was sitting for
so long. 20 minutes in the saddle was agony. You can stand and pedal for short
periods, but don’t tire yourself out.
- - The last 20km were the worst for me, because I
knew I was so close to the finish. And my body knew it would get to rest soon,
and started shutting down. So the final push was difficult.
- - Don’t stress too much about training. The
furthest I had ever ridden was 33km, and the longest was about 2hrs. The last
ride I did was 2 weeks before the race. BUT, get to know your bike well. Know
which gear combinations work well for the different climb gradients.
Would I do
it again? Yes, probably.
 |
| The bike that got me through it! |
