AmaOneTya

I started typing up a race report. However, I realised that I must change the style, as I was averaging 1 page per 4km’s. This would result in a ride report of over 27typed pages. So, here is the condensed version (which is still too long)

I usually hit the snooze in the morning, 3 times. Not on Sunday, 14 March. I was excited. I was awake before the alarm. I had a quick coffee and breakfast before Al and Christo arrived. After some final uni and backpack adjustments, and copious amounts of cows udder cream on either side of my own udder, we left the flat to ride the few km’s to the race start. The morning was beautiful. But, the Cape Doctor was ready to consult. For those that don’t know the Cape Doctopr, this is the named we give to the (bastard) South Easter wind that hits Cape Town regularly.

At the start, we met Ethan and Hen. But wait, where is Geoff? We knew he was having breakfast with Mr Raymond Ackerman (of the Pick and Pay empire), but where is he now? Whilst Geoff was nowhere to be seen, we found out later that his breakfast continued longer than planned, and he started a few groups behind the first official Argus unicycle category, group NU.

After the traditional “everybody say WHOOPA!” from the race announcer, we were off. And into the wind. Thankfully, it was a headwind and not a crosswind. Our group of 5 immediately fragmented, with Alan, Ethan and myself sticking more or less together for the next 20km. We were running 125mm cranks compared to the 150mms on the other setups, making it uncomfortable to stick together in such a strong wind.

The crowd support was amazing, as was the vibe from our fellow cyclists. People lined the roads and the overhead bridges, with banners, flags, cameras and vuvuzelas. The unicycles invariably generated varied reactions, almost entirely positive! The first downhill at hospital bend was uneventful. It was disconcerting to have so many cyclists racing past us at up to 5 times our speed. So with safety in mind, I went slower than I have done previously on my training rides.

Absorbed in the vibe, we approached Wynberg hill, the first major up of the race. We were told that this was a popular spectator spot. WOW!!! I did not imagine that there would be so many people at 7:30am, lining the sides and islands to scream at, for the most part, throngs of cyclists unknown to them! I will mention the crowds many more times, because the crowds played a large part in helping me to finish the race.

Going up Wynberg Hill felt great! It was early in the race, I was feeling strong, and the 125mm cranks were perfect to attack this gradient. I quickly lost count of how many cyclists swore as I hurtled past them. Spurred on by the screams of the bystanders, with a fat grin across my face, I felt like a celebrity. I’m sure this is what happens to Lance when he rides. Me going significantly slower than him, I basked in the glory for longer!

After Wynberg Hill came another uneventful down onto Blueroute, the M3 highway. This is flat, and was thankfully windless (in Cape Town terms). Alan, Ethan and myself had regrouped, and were enjoying the vibe. But, tick tock, the clock was counting down, and we wanted to aim for a sub 7hour ride. We used a nifty tool from the Argus website that gave us split times for various sections the route in order to get a 7hour time. The wind from start had slowed us down, and we needed to make up time to stay on our self-imposed schedule. This is where I picked up my pace, and my journey with Al and Ethan ended.

Chasing the split times, I got to Boyes Drive, another infamous hill on the Tour. Well, not for unicyclists. We have had a fair amount of training on this particular hill, and once again I left the 2 wheelers behind me. Encouraged by Brent and Alison Boswell from the sides, I pressed hard. So did the wind. But, I surprisingly managed to continue riding relatively unimpeded.

Down the other end of Boyes drive I went, squeezing the hydraulic brake firmly to cope with the steepness, I entered the 3^rd worst part of the race – The route through to Simons town. Why was this bad? The wind. The only thing that has made any part of this race bad, is the wind. This one was a crosswind. A gusty, strong, crosswind. As we were riding along the cost, I got sandblasted on several sections. The wind swung around, changing directions with each gust. It was kak. The only good thing abou it was that I ended up passing the odd cyclist on the flats, as they geared down to fight mother nature. Contorted and uncomfortable, I began the climb at Smitswinkel baai. Here is when legs first started complaining. They were not cramping, but they were certainly grumbling about the work they were doing. I stopped and stretched them out briefly, which helped. The climb was slower than the previous 2 (coincidence that there weren’t many spectators at this point?), but I managed to get up.

It was at this point that I realised I had lost my piece of paper with the split times. This was a problem, because my cycle computer only calculates my “riding” stats. Every time I take a break, the computer turns off, giving me a much higher “average speed” than I deserve for the duration of the race. So be it. I’ll just ride as hard as I think I should.

Getting to Cape Point, the wind eased off a bit. From here, my focus had shifted to “ride without cramping”. To do this, I needed to keep my cadence regular, and avoid “tripping”. A trip on a unicycle is the same as on your feet – you hit a bump, lurch forward slightly, faster than you intend to, and need to pick up your pace a bit to stop falling over. “Tripping” is very tiring, and occurs more often when you get tired -vicious cycle. Thankfully, the route had flattened out a lot. This is an absolutely stunning part of the race, going through Misty Cliffs. I cannot describe how wonderful it is to ride Misty Cliffs, and instead I urge everyone to do this route before they die, be in on 1 wheel, 2, 4, or no wheels

I stopped for as massage just after Misty Cliffs. I knew that the infamous Chapman’s Peak was coming up, and I wanted to loosen up a bit before tackling it. I am very grateful for the UCT physiotherapy students who, in order to gain experience, subject themselves to very sweaty, smelly, and sometimes rude cyclists. You guys allowed many of the riders who visited you the opportunity to complete the race. You did for me.

Chapman’s Peak was next. I was psyching myself up for it, and I think that worked! The ride up was very manageable. I passed the majority of my fellow cyclists, and even had some energy to take in the view. Following a brief stretch at the top of Chappies, I began my descent. Well, I tried to. The wind was gusting terribly. My first mount was nearly my last: I was on the left of the road, on the ocean side of the cliff. As I mounted, a gust blew me off the road, and onto the rock-barrier that was intended to stop me falling into the ocean. I decided to make my descent on the far right of the road. It was slightly less windy, and if I fell, I would not fall off the mountain. The cyclists were not using the far right in any case, as it was too close to the near vertical cliff face. Even so, I ended up running much of the downhill. It was simply too unsafe to ride. I got a lot of sympathetic encouragement from cyclists, who were also feeling the wind, and many were slowing down appropriately.

The last stretch of the downhill of Chappies was rideable. As I entered Hout Hay I heard, amidst shouts and cheers from the crowd, a “Johnny, Johnny!” from a roadside café. There stood 2 angels – Marijke (my girlfriend) and Donna (Alan’s girlfriend)! They had been waiting there for the past few hours, concentrating the whole time so as not to miss us unicyclists coming into Hout Bay. I pulled over, and was immediately offered a range of drinks and foods. I think they looted a shop or two, judging by the variety and quantity of calories available. I unfortunately only managed half a glass of ice water and 2 bites of a bar one. A quick stretch, and I departed, to shouts and cheers from all those in the café, still chasing the sub-7 hour mark.

Marijke and Donna, thank you for waiting around for us. It gave me a big boost of confidence that you guys took the whole morning off to support us!

The support through Hout Bay was strong, and my focus was now on getting over Suikerbossie. This is the hill that, although not too long or too steep, comes at a point in the race where cyclists are very tired, grumpy, hot and sweaty. Thus, it is dreaded. But I was feeling strong. I was feeling ready. I heard Suikerbossie before I saw it. The whole road was lined with people, wavin flags and banners, screaming, singing, dancing, drinking, and generally making the most of their day! People were taking hosepipes from their gardens and spraying any cyclist who wanted to be cooled down, others were handing out water and beer, and yet more kids were handing out frozen “bunny licks” (ice lollies), which I gratefully accepted. Up the hill I went, at a good pace. I was tired, and much slower than the other hills, but so were the other cyclists. At the top of Suikerbossie, I started feeling unwell – lightheaded, and a bit nauseas. I took the opportunity to sit in the shade of a truck for a few minutes, and helped myself to some coke from the refreshment station. I also had a “whasp energy gel” laced with 100mg of caffeine. Chatting to some spectators and cyclists who had also stopped was very encouraging. Then the downhill began, still chasing that sub 7. By my rough calculations, I needed to ride an average of 19km/h for a full hour in order to get there. I thought that that was doable.

Well, I thought that, until I rounded the first corner a few metres away and was blown off the uni by a gust of wind. [Insert appropriate profanity here]! More running was in order, for my safety and the safety of the speeding cyclists passing me. I could run at a max of 13km/h. With a growing realisation, the sub-7 goal started slipping away. My brain ticked over as I ran/rode down the hill. 20km/h, 21km/h 24km/h, the required averages increased. Still, I pushed myself in the hope that perhaps I calculated wrong. The wind relaxed when I hit the flats of Bantry Bay, Camps Bay, and down onto Beach road on the homestretch through Seapoint to Greenpoint Stadium. The crowds were building up the closer I came to the finish, with hundreds of people enjoying the sunshine and the vibe. Ethan’s parents cheered me on while my head remained down, pushing myself as hard as I could, which was a meagre 19km/h at this point. Signs counting the last few 100’s of metres were approached passed. 500m. 400m. 300m. A grandstand had been built next to the finish, which was packed with cheering persons. I approached. The people shouted. The finish announcer announced the arrival of a unicyclist, and I crossed the line. It was over! I had done it! I cautiously dismounted as soon as was safe, and joined the throng of cyclists negotiating the chaotic finish area on the grounds of the 2010 Greenpoint soccer stadium. Now lost in a bunch of walking sportsmen and women, I became inconspicuous, and went with the flow. I collected my medal, and then met Marijke and Donna, who had driven from Hout Bay to the finish to meet us again. After some photos, we settled down to wait for Alan, Ethan and the rest of the unicycling mob to arrive.

Alan and Ethan joined us about 20minutes later, having ridden the last few km’s together, and crossed the line simultaneously. Some more photos, and we decided to get away from the mayhem of the finish. Ethan went home with his parents, whilst Al and myself rode the few kilometres back to my flat, as the unis wouldn’t fit in Donnas car. It was a good warm down.

We proceeded to drink beer, eat pasta, cool off and share our race experiences. Justin joined us for a while, and we made merry, living happily ever after.

Meanwhile, Hendrick had managed to ride as far as Simonstown (about 45km) before bailing out of the race. He has been nursing an injury for some time, and I think he did better than anyone expected! Hen tells me that he had a great race, and has written a report on his experience, which is a very entertaining read! You can see it here.

Christo did extremely well, finishing about an hour after Alan and Ethan. This was on a uni that is not his own, with 150mm cranks and without much training after his Mauritius trip a few months back. Well done Christo!

Geoff is currently AWOL. We hope to find out more from him soon.

The Argus was a wonderful experience. Our 3 months of hard work paid off, and we did it! Will we be back next year? As much as I cannot think of anything worse at this moment, I suspect that the whole experience is similar to child-birth – one quickly forgets the pain, the struggle, the sweet, the tears, and remembers the joy and sense of achievement that one has when the goal is reached.

Argus 2011, get ready!