Argus 2014

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!).

  The days leading up to 9^th of March consisted of eating. A lot. And not always stuff that was good for carbo-loading (oops). I had also done three Peninsula flights in the 6 days leading up to the race, so I got a good view of the route (and each flight I thought ‘What have I let yourself in for?!).

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!

Reach for a Dream 2014

Reach for a Dream

The morning dawned grey and overcast, the clouds threatening us with rain. Pilots and ground crew filled the Clubhouse, mugs of coffee in hand, the smell perking up even the sleepiest of us. Alison stands up front, trying to get everyone to quiet down and pay attention.

First, a Welcome and Thank You to those who have volunteered their aircraft, fuel and time for the Reach for a Dream day. Reach for a Dream is an organisation that gives children with life-threatening illnesses the chance to fulfil their dreams. From meeting celebrities, to swimming with dolphins, to taking to the skies in a light aircraft.

This is where the Stellenbosch Flying Club comes in. Every year, the Flying Club hosts a day to take these children for a short flight. In 2013, weather put a damper on the event, and eventually it was decided to postpone until 2014.

The weather almost destroyed our plans once again, but after the Safety Briefing, presented by Chief Flying Instructor, Peter Du Preez, the cloud base lifted enough to allow us to fly the children to Klapmuts Koppie (a ‘koppie’ just north west of the Simonsberg Mountain) and back.

Aircraft were readied, and lined up on the taxi-way, pilots eagerly awaiting their precious cargo.

Six-seater twin engine aircraft (one Beechcraft Baron and two Piper Seneca’s) were used to fly those in wheelchairs. Other aircraft included;  a Piper Cherokee, a Piper Dakota, two Cessna 152’s, one Cessna Cardinal, one RV-8, and one Pipistrel Motorglider.

93 children were flown, as well as 5 of the Reach for a Dream Caregivers.

It’s always amazing to interact with these children, whose ages range from about 3 years old, to late teens. They’re well-behaved, and eager to climb into an aircraft and get into the air. Some take photos, or look out the window in awe. Others look at the aircraft controls and instruments, and try to handle the controls. Some even take a nap. And my favourite is when they sing; it’s relaxing and humbling to see this child sitting next to you, content in their own little world, even though they have probably faced more challenges than your average adult.

Despite the rather dreary weather, and increasing wind-strength throughout the morning (which gave all the pilots a chance to practice their x-wind landing technique), the day was a huge success. When the children weren’t in the aircraft, they could be found puttering around the access road in a 1934 Austin 10 Tourer, or watching a magician perform in the hangar.

Special thanks go to:

Alison, who organised this event, as well as the Reach for a Dream Foundation, for taking the initiative in the first place.

The helpers on the ground, and in the air:

-          Annie

-          Sue

-          Zelen-Erin

-          Tertius

-          Peter DP(Safety Officer)

-          Kay

-          Jean

-          Debbie

-          Ronnie

-          Johnny

-          Donald

-          Cedric

-          Peter E

-          Jacques N

-          Ron (owner of the Austin)

-          Those who helped from the Clubhouse side; Geoff and Estelle, and the barmen and kitchen staff

The pilots:

-          Mike (Cardinal)

-          Nicholas (Cherokee)

-          Jacques D (Cherokee)

-          Mark (Dakota)

-          Deon (Cessna 152)

-          Heather (Cessna 152)

-          Martin (Pipistrel)

-          Allan (RV-8)

-          Nicholas (Baron)

-          Kevin (Seneca)

-          Eugene (Seneca)

Sponsors:

-          KFC (lunch for the children)

-          Pick ‘n Pay (donuts and Oros for the children)

-          Stellenbosch Flying Club (lunch and cold drinks for the helpers and pilots)

If there is anyone I have left out, I humbly apologise.

Here’s to next year’s event. May we have blue skies and calm winds, and be lucky enough to once again see the smiles on these children’s faces after a flight.

Some say the sky is the limit. But to us, it’s Home.

One Year On

The 26th of January marks one year since I started working as an instructor.

I remember the day well. On the evening of the 25th of January, I was offered an ab initio student. Having had no success finding a job for the last year, I accepted; ad the next day (co-incidentally, my 21st birthday), I met with my victim. Ah, I mean, student.

He taught me more than he realises, and I consider myself lucky to have had such a passionate and studious individual as my first student. It definitely helped make the job a little less stressful.
I am proud to say he passed his PPL Skills Test later in 2013. And only tried to kill me twice.

Since then, I have had 3 other students go solo, with one nearing the end of his PPL training.

Suffice to say I have considerably more grey hairs and stress-lines than your average 22-year-old. However, being able to teach someone and actually have them understand what you're saying is worth it. And having a student teach me something is a remarkably good feeling.

The job brings holds many interesting memories. Some happy, others scary, some angry and disappointed, funny ones, fear, and ones of relief. Perhaps one day I will write about some of those memories.

Regardless of the bad and scary moments, nothing is as calming as the view from the office (except for that time when a large sheet of rain was moving towards the airfield, obscuring the mountains. Oh, and the time when, during the take-off roll a flock of birds flew across the runway... then as we rotated another flock flew in front of us... and as we were climbing away, a third flock had a mass suicide attempt... thankfully those attempts were unsuccessful).

So here's to 2014 (I know I said that in the previous post, but anyway). And to Doing More.

2013 - The End of Another Year

2013 has been filled with scares, thrills, and many laughs and great opportunities.

Obtaining my first flying job, and realising that people weren’t joking when they said that an instructor’s students are out to kill them. Learning the art of teaching, learning when to intervene, and when it is safe to allow a student to continue and make a mistake.

I’ve been fortunate enough see sun rises and sunsets from the air, and soar with the birds (and in some cases, take drastic action to avoid hitting some of the birds). I’ve said good bye to friends, and seen people grow and move on. I’ve met people from all over the world, and made new friends.

I’ve learnt to love the Cessna 172, something I never thought I’d find myself saying (I mean, come on, it’s a tri-gear aircraft). I’ve flown in formation with RV’s, and T28’s Trojans; Bosbok’s and Cessna 152’s; I’ve experienced formation aerobatics from the front seat of the highly capable MX-2; and I’ve seen the majestic Boeing Stearman navigate through the skies, from the rear seat of the highly-capable Atlas Bosbok. I have flown in the back of the Huey, and relished in the feel of the blades beating the air. I’ve been to Gauteng several times, and seen the country from the pointy end of a Boeing 737-800. From advanced aircraft, to the basics; a J3 Cub with the flapping door acting as your stall warning; landing at Ysterplaat AFB in a 1940’s Howard.

I’ve flown in the early morning, where the air is so still and smooth that it feels like you’re dreaming, and I’ve flown through horrible turbulence and rain. I’ve flown to – and landed at – the most southern airfield in Africa, and I have experienced first-hand what it is like to chase zebra and ostrich off of a grass runway.

I’ve had days where nothing seemed to go right, and where I eventually made the decision that, after the third issue, it wasn’t intended for me to fly that day. And I’ve had days where everything seemed to go well.  I’ve flown with B777 pilots, and old retired pilots. I’ve introduced young and old to the wonders of flight, some of whom are natural pilots, others who simply didn’t have a clue, but enjoyed it nonetheless.

I’ve seen Cape Point from the air more times than I have been there by car, and no longer fear the water crossing to Robben Island. I’ve seen waters so crystal blue and beaches so white, it was as if they belonged at some tropical island, not off the coast of the Western Cape.  I’ve witnessed whales swimming with their young, and seen sights I never would have seen from the ground.

All in all, I’ve had a good year.

Here’s to 2014. May fewer students try to kill me.

Season's Greetings

Working on Fire Demo Day - Videos

Working on Fire Demo Day

Monday, 2 December

Every year, Working on Fire holds an open/demo day at the start of the fire season. It is normally held at Fisantekraal Airfield, but not anymore!

For the start of the 2013/14 season, the Stellenbosch Airfield was the host.
Which meant that for the first time in my memory (and possibly ever), there were 7 Huey's at the airfield. It doesn't get sexier than that.

Along with the Huey's there were also 3 Dromaders, 7 Spotters, and the FFA's brand new Air Tractor AT-802.

The 802 is a monster of a machine, and has a hopper with a capacity of some 3100 litres. 

As is the norm, an hour or so is spent giving speeches and showing videos to the invited guests, and then a fire is "started" (this year they used a smoke machine) so that the guests can see the pilots and aircraft in action.

The display consisted of 3 Huey's (two with Bambi buckets, and the other the troop carrier), 2 Dromaders, the AT-802, and 1 Spotter. 

The Dromader's are quite impressive when they drop water, and it's always amazing to see. But the AT-802 took it to a whole new level when it deposited its load of water and foam down most of the length of the 760m long runway.

Even though only 3 Huey's flew, having 7 there at once made it feel like something out of Vietnam. Okay, not really. But that didn't stop me from humming Paint It Black by the Rolling Stones for most of the day.