Freedom Challenge - Race Across South Africa (RASA) June 2019
Finishing RASA in 2017 was a tremendous relief. Ever since watching a documentary on the first RASA on TV I was infatuated with the idea of participating. I would find myself telling friends, “I’m going to do that race someday” but it was never the right time. There never is a right time, one can always find a good excuse not to enter - I can’t afford 3 weeks off work; my daughter’s in matric, and so on. After about 10 years of procrastination, I finally plucked up the courage and managed to “tick the block” finishing 17 days later in Paarl. During the race I had made a wonderful friend in Gavin Robinson, we rode 16 of the 17 days together. “That’s it, it’s done” I told Gina (wife) no need to worry about that one again. “I’m a blanket wearer now I can relax”. Famous last words!
That was 2017, this blog is about the first 8 days of the 2019 race. But first, what draws you back to RASA? Those who have participated know the answer. I have really battled to explain it. All I know is that within a couple months of recovering from frozen fingers and toes in 2017 my mind started wandering straight back to the Freedom Trail. Bizarrely I found myself telling mates that I wanted to go back and do it again, afterwards I would chastise myself “are you nuts? you have your blanket, shut up, why are you putting yourself under pressure again?”. It wouldn’t take more than two beers at a braai and I would start thinking about it, talking about it, dreaming about it, feeling like I really really had to go back. I would lie awake at night thinking about the route, clicking through the support stations: Allendale, Centocow, Ntsekeni, Glen Edward, Masakala, Malekgolonyane, Tinana, Vuvu … as if I was counting sheep! Eventually I would envisage myself arriving at Diemersfontein outside Paarl looking thin and feeling happy. My mind would then wander to the navigation…….turn left after the school, don’t forget to get a coke at that spaza, look for the bokkie sign, fill your bottle here, jump the fence there, look for the windmill, eventually drifting restlessly off to sleep having gone through the entire route in my mind but not before thinking about what I would do better and what kit I would take next time. What next time? If I need another damn blanket, I’ll bloody well buy one at Pep!
But the Freedom Challenge addiction eventually won. I couldn’t be satisfied with one blanket I needed two. I have two children, each must have a blanket! Late in 2018 I took the plunge again and entered but not before I had persuaded my good mate Renier van der Merwe (Van) to join me for his first race and oh yes, I also convinced poor Gavin back for his third (he has 3 children ;). My plan was for us to knock it off in 15 days at worst 16. I knew I could take a day off 2017, piece of cake. Little did I know.
DAY1- PMB-The Oaks-Allendale-Centocow 151kms
Although RASA is a solo race participants are allowed to ride together and assist one another as fellow racers. Van, Gavin and I had a pact that we would stick together the entire race unless one of us was unable to continue. Our batch set off from PMB town hall at 06h00 on 9th June 2019. We arrived at Allendale by +-16h00 after the big slog through the Umkomaas valley. The race consists of a variety of different terrains, 99% being off road using dirt roads, jeep tracks, foot paths, no paths, loads of portaging and of course you have to navigate it all without GPS using only a narrative and a 1:50 000 topographical map. It is not normal mountain biking, there is no water table, no mechanic at the end of the day, no medical tent. A great deal of time is spent checking the route, jumping fences, carrying your bike on your back the general rule of thumb is 10km per hour (even for the top racers), the terrain or weather alters your pace all the time.
I was adamant that we were going to knock off 150kms and reach Centocow mission on Day 1. Van was unexpectedly cramping at 60kms and Gavin was, by his own admission, “not good” but they gritted their teeth and we persevered to Centocow. At sunset I caught a glimpse of Gary, one of the other racers in our batch, a couple of hundred meters behind us in the Sani2C forests before Donnybrook, but he never caught us up. We eventually arrived at Centocow at 21h30 after a very solid 15.5-hour first day effort. I was tired but happy that I had navigated the tricky Centocow forests at night perfectly. An hour later, still no Gary. After telling the mission ladies that there was another rider on the way and wondering to myself why Gary hadn’t pitched, I went to bed.
DAY2-Centocow-Ntsekeni-Glen Edward 91kms
I’m not an early starter and woke up at 05h00 to start breakfast. There was Gary looking rather bedraggled. After questioning him about why he didn’t arrive last night after us, he told me his free body broke (random event) in the Donnybrook forest. First, he phoned his missus for help, then he slowly made his way to Donnybrook. In no time at all, his wife rustled up an old wheel from a friend and drove it that night to Donnybrook from Hillcrest (brave lady) which then allowed Gary to get into Centocow at 01h30.He had also given her his malfunctioning wheel with instructions to get it fixed and make sure it got to Chris Fisher (race organiser) before he left PMB so that Gary could get it back from Chris later in the race. The race organisers leave PMB after the last batch and follow the race down the route to Paarl. Gary had to serve a 4-hour time penalty at Centocow for outside assistance. After some commiseration, we set off hoping to reach Masakala.
Day2 was pretty uneventful, the big climb up to Ntsekeni took until lunch and then in the area of Politik kraal Van started complaining that his big toe was hurting him. We duly removed the offending toe nail and then jointly decided to stop at Glen Edward after an 11 hour effort - no one was in the mood for an additional 6 hour night ride to Masakala.
This is probably where my trouble with 2019 started. The farmers at Glen Edward are lovely people and made us feel right at home but that night I just couldn’t sleep, 2am came and went, 3am, then 4 and we got up at 05h00. I genuinely did not sleep. I had lost a whole night! Feeling very sorry for myself I wondered how I was going to ride 13 hours to Malekgoloyane with no sleep? Gremlins find easy passage into the minds of tired men, gremlins told me it would be SO easy, just pick up the phone to wifey, she was only 3 hours driving distance away, I would be in my own bed that night, it would be so embarrassing but so what? Thankfully gremlins didn’t last long, with a bit of sympathy from my buddies and words to the effect of suck it up, they vaporised and out into the sub-zero Swartberg morning air we went.
It was also at Glen Edward that we heard the sad news that Gavin’s mother in law was very ill. Gav started wondering whether she was going to live long enough to allow him to complete his race or whether he would need to withdraw and go and support his wife. I could see the quandary etched all over Gavin’s face - he’s a family man through and through.
DAY3 Glen Edward-Masakala-Malekgoloyane -114kms
Grinding away on the district roads about an hour after departing Glen Edward Gav asked me if I was still grumpy from not getting any sleep. My answer was that it was entirely my choice whether to scowl or smile and that I have chosen to smile, ”that’s a good boy Andy” Gav told me. We passed through Masakala (not far from Matatiele) at lunch and by 18h00 the 3 of us were at Malekgolonyane chowing chicken and rice. It had been another long day on the saddle but I had survived it and actually hadn’t felt that bad considering.
There is signal at Malekgoloyane so Gav decided to satellite track Gary (all racers carry satellite tracking devices) who had made excellent time. His “dot” was on the mountain ridge line above Malek at +-16h00. That would mean he should arrive any time now. But by bed time at 21h00 there was still no Gary? What is with this dude man where is he again? That would be twice in 3 days that he is out there alone and doesn’t arrive when we expect him to! Rural East Griqualand is not a place I fancied getting lost in at night. Its wild country, you are very far from help, good motivation to make sure you reached the support station in daylight. I saved Gary a bed next to me and chucked some bedding on it, knowing that that if he arrived some time during the night, he could just climb straight in. Suddenly I startled awake, Gary had arrived at 01h00 (this guy likes the wee hours!). On asking him where the fo0k he had been, he told me he had been lost in the wattle forest before (the abandoned) Gladstone farm for about 7 hours. Black wattle forests are nasty and have been the cause of many a problem riding at night, they are dense and very dark, everything looks the same at night. It’s easy to go around and around in circles. Gary’s answer was to stop and make himself a brew on his high-speed boiler. He regrouped and eventually found his way out, what a boytjie! Gary thanked me for keeping a bed handy for him and we both went to sleep.
DAY4 Malekgolonyane -Tinana mission - Vuvu - 65kms
Next morning, we set off for Vuvu. It’s a short day in kms but very difficult terrain makes the going very slow. After 6 hours the route leads to a big mountainous drop into the dusty bowl that is Tinana mission. We were chilling next to the stream that runs through Tinana (where the small suspension bridge was, which is now washed away) eating our padkos and Gary arrived and sat about 50m away on his own. “Jirre this oke is painfully shy” I thought to myself and waved to him “come and join us Gary”. He did, then I suggested he ride the rest of the day to Vuvu with us to which he surprisingly agreed (random event). I knew a group of 4 was too big but hey who is counting? Gary had been on his own from the start and he had already had 2 shit luck episodes. I sensed that he may need some companionship and his spirits lifted. It was on the other side of Tinana mission that I realised I had made a very bad choice in riding glasses, they were cheap, useless, rubbish - a bad mistake at attempting to save money on my part, only 4 days in and already scratched and falling apart with thousands of kms to go.
After an 11 hour day finishing with the final 11 km haul up the desolate but beautiful Vuvu valley we arrived at the remote village perched on the mountain side to bad news. Gav’s mom in law has passed away. He immediately made his mind up, he would withdraw (random event) at the next support station in Rhodes where his wife could pick him up on her way to the Cape from Jhb to bury her mother. I was very bummed for Gavin and his family. I also cursed our luck knowing that my navigation further down the route was weak between Hofmeyer and Jakkasfontein, that was to be Gavin’s section to navigate and would also be sorely missed on that score.
Vuvu is always an interesting experience in that you have a wonderful warm bucket wash and spend the night in a local’s kraal. They literally vacate their beds for you. You really get a close and personal experience of the life of a rural South African villager. With the powerful Tina and Vuvu rivers a couple of hundred meters below the village on either side, it blows my mind that Vuvu does not have running water.
DAY5 Vuvu – Rhodes - Chesneywold -121kms
We departed Vuvu at the usual 05h00 and rode the 8km district road bit to the start of Lehanas which is the longest portage of the race. Half way up the 5.5km mountain scramble, negotiating a slippery rocky section before the shepherd’s hut, I face planted and smashed my 2000 lumen bike light. Eeish glasses are kak and now no powerful bike light. We decided on the tiger line route over the top of Lehana. On the summit we built Gavin’s mom-in-law a cairn. On the way to Rhodes Gav offered me his glasses and his bike light. That offer quite possibly saved the race for me. I had another much weaker helmet light but there is no way I could have ridden the balance of the race without riding glasses especially with what was unknowingly in store for us in the future - 12 days of howling dusty headwind! Sadly, we said our goodbyes to Gavin at Rhodes and suddenly it was Van, myself and now Gary making up the threesome.
Summiting Lehana on the Tiger Line-it’s a good slog!
The weather can change so quickly-the photo above and this one were taken within 10mins of each other , here we are building a Cairn for Gavin’s mother in Law on the top of Lehana (altitude 2710m very close to the highest point on the race), you can also see just right of us in the back ground the blue container that everyone aims at from the bottom of the mountain
On the long cold 68km night haul to Chesneywold farm (vicinity of Barkley East) Gary started opening up. Turns out Gary was one of the 2 navy divers who had evacuated the passengers off the sinking Oceanos in raging seas off the Transkei coast in the early 90’s. As you grind away at the distances each day you are more than happy to listen to a story to pass the time (and take your mind off the suffering). I remembered the saga of the Oceanos and I begged for the story to be told in blow by blow detail. Gary delivered in his usual quiet and unassuming way. It was a fascinating and heroic tale, every passenger on the ship survived. The story ended well, although Gary had thought on a few occasions that “his ticket was punched” he survived the ordeal and was awarded one of the Navy’s most prestigious medals for valour (Honoris Crux Silver). Besides the fact that Gary had already endured 2 freezing late nights (out of 4) so far on this race, after listening to that story it became very apparent to Van and I that Gary was not to be underestimated. The temp was -8C on the final 10 kms valley descent down to the farm, we arrived cold and fatigued to a warm farm kitchen after 17 hours on the bike at 22h00.
We also established during that night ride, that Gary happened to know Arthur Limbouris (random coincidence) who was Van’s business partner but most importantly Arthur had agreed to be our “go to guy” in case of needing emergency support at some point on the race if the race organisers couldn’t help.
DAY6 Chesneywold – Slaapkrans - Moordenaarspoort - 95kms
Leaving Chesneywold is was cold, f0ken koud! Little did I know that this day was going to be one of my hardest days in endurance sport. We had planned to ride to 135kms Kranskop well aware that 2 big obstacles were in play that day – the Slaapkrans portage and the climb up and down Luiterbrondt. The morning temperature was -6.5C at 5h30.
On the subject of cold (in my opinion) morning cold is definitely worse than evening cold which is why I prefer late starts and late finishes. In winter at best you get 11 hours of daylight to ride in, either way on most days you are going to start or finish in the dark if you are pushing for 16 days, so why ride during the coldest part of the day being early morning - rather ride into the night surely? Riding in the cold on a bicycle is obviously exacerbated by the wind chill. In 2017 we had -11C one evening on the way to Brosterlea which was ridiculously cold - nothing helped! Dressing for defence against extremely cold temperatures is as follows: cycling bib –shorts, skin tight thermal under layer, wool T shirt 200g, wool long sleeve 260g (100% wool garments can be ridden in day after day and does not pick up body odour as it is a natural product), fleece lined wind breaker, extreme cold water canoeing jacket, buff, skull cap with ear warmers, -20C rated gloves, fleece lined (leg) cycling tights, wool socks, seal skinz thick waterproof socks, Shimano Gortex riding boots. From time to time nature calls usually in the morning at the wrong time ….you need number 2 – bib shorts means everything must come off until you are stark naked - you can’t just pull your pants down!
We hadn’t ridden far, about 4 kms, after crossing the Barkley East tar road the trouble started. Gary’s rear shock completely collapsed. We fiddled and faffed around but there wasn’t much we could do so after about 20 minutes of failed attempts to fix it we rode on. Then 5 minutes later my front shock collapsed! More fiddling more time lost. What is it with shocks this morning? (Later we found out severe cold can cause rubber shock seals to contract letting the air out) We did not have a shock pump. Annoying to have 2 shocks collapse suddenly but not the end of the world. We rode on, Gary leaning back, me leaning forward and arrived at Slaapkrans farm at midday hoping the farmer was around. No such luck, just his young daughter and no shock pumps to be found, compressed air didn’t work either. Leaving Slaapkrans behind, we pushed up the steep Slaapkrans portage and then made our way slowly down to the Luiterbront area knowing the big Luiterbront climb awaited. After some dodgy navigation and getting ourselves slightly lost, then several hours of ascent, we eventually neared the top, found the foot path that took us to the summit and then started the very rocky, treacherous and unrideable footpath descent. Towards the bottom there is the odd place you can ride. I was a bit ahead of the other 2 and noticed my chain was doing an odd flicking movement when I free wheeled. As I got to the cultivated field at the bottom and started riding in earnest, I realised I had a big problem - my free body was gone (random event). Every time I stopped pedalling the bloody chain jumped off!
To say I was pissed off is an understatement. Pre-race I had carefully gone through the bike with mechanic and we had replaced just about every moving part. The last thing I wanted on the race was a major mechanical. We had agreed that the hub was a good quality Stans, the mechanic had opened it up and was satisfied that it looked fine. That was literally the only moving part we didn’t change or upgrade on the bike!! At the water tank at the bottom of the Luiterbront descent we stopped to take stock. Van then showed me the bottom of his shoe. The entire cleat had pulled out of the sole of the shoe, just a hole in the sole where the cleat was meant to be and the cleat was in the pedal. His shoe was an impossible fix! Suddenly and in the space of 20 mins, 2 potentially race ending mechanical problems had happened simultaneously! (random coincidence).
Those that know the RASA route would probably agree with me that this particular area was probably one of the worst places to have a major mechanical. You really are miles from any chance of getting a spare part quickly. Rossouw was 30kms away but that meant nothing. If the earth needed an enema Rossouw is where they would put the hose pipe. From 2017 I remembered it had 1 spaza shop and a police station. It was now 17h00 and we had 30 mins of light left. We had to come up with a plan fast. Gary suggested that he ride ahead to get help and that we follow as best as we could. We were unsure if there was signal in Rossouw, Gary would get there first and because we knew that we had big trouble on our hands he would immediately give Arthur Limbouris our back up support a distress call for help. We needed a new wheel and new size 13 shoes not a small ask! He would also update Chris Fisher, the race organiser, that we had problems. Off Gary went and then Van and I started limping to Rossouw.
Not sure if anyone has had the pleasure of riding a bike with a broken free body and a flat front shock? The difficulty is that you have to pedal constantly, uphill, or downhill against the brakes, if you don’t the chain is off. Van was riding with 1 shoe clipped in, neither of us had much of a sense of humour. We couldn’t see how we could avoid a major delay of many days whilst we waited for spares. At about 19h30 we reached Rossouw. There was no bloody signal. We decided to head for the police station. Gary was nowhere to be seen, in fact there was no one in the entire godforsaken town. Entering the police station, we found 1 cop on duty. He was very pleasant and gladly offered their landline.
We mulled over the permutations. I must emphasize here, very tired brains don’t do permutations well. The way we figured it, to get size 13 shoes to Moordenaarspoort farm (next support station) would take a minimum 72 hours if you can find them at all (you don’t find decent quality size 13 Mtb shoes easily remembering that it can’t be any old shoe type, they had to be good for hiking and cold weather or you will pretty soon develop feet problems). To get a new wheel – maybe a bit quicker perhaps from Kokstad? We could not fathom how we could actually continue the race with such long delays. We were literally fuc7ed by the fickle finger of fate!
The combination of being extremely fatigued and emotional leads to bad decisions. We both felt utterly deflated and defeated, it was 20h00 and we had already been on the road for 14.5-hours that day. Reluctantly we decided that we would rather withdraw than sit around waiting for spares for (maybe) 3 days? Like I said, bad decisions. Looking out the window a storm was kicking off and a cold icy rain started - that was the final straw. Using the police land line, I phoned my wife, Gina, first and then Van phoned his wife, Jenny, to deliver the bad news. Then, I phoned Chris Fischer (race organiser) and told him we were out. He tried to dissuade us but we were adamant we had no option but to bail, there was no way we could continue without a major delay and how would a courier company find us anyway?
What we were unaware of was that Gary had ridden up the mountain road outside Rossouw hoping that there would be signal on higher ground. Luckily (random event) it turned out he was right. He found a weak signal but managed to call Arthur and gave him a summary of the situation. He had to speak quickly as the storm was gathering momentum and it started sleeting. Subsequently Jenny had also gotten hold of Arthur and told him about our decision to bail.
Back at the police station the phone rang, we hadn’t moved and we weren’t going anywhere anyway whilst the rain poured down outside. Our hope was to bum a ride to Barkley East the next morning from where, with our tails between our legs, we could be collected. Policeman answered and said the call was for me?! It was Arthur. On answering I received what can only be described as a very stern and forceful bollocking for even thinking of bailing. Anyone who knows Arthur also knows it’s not a good idea to disagree with him! Arthur said that he had already found shoes. Luckily Shimano happened to have 1 pair of the right type shoes in size 13 and they were in CT (random coincidence). Art had persuaded the Shimano boss to open up his warehouse, he also managed to get hold of a wheel set and told me that the shoes and wheels would be leaving Cape Town asap courtesy of Steve, one of his business managers who was willing to leave immediately and do the monster drive to us! The kit would be with us by the following afternoon. I couldn’t believe our luck! We were back on! I asked Arthur to deliver them to Kranskop farm and to get the co-ordinates from the race organisers. We hoped to be able to limp to Kranskop by the next afternoon even if I had to push my bike. Then I called Chris and asked permission to enter back into the race given that we had not yet broken any race rules. He agreed that we had not transgressed and granted us permission to continue.
In much better spirits we exited the police station in the rain which had lightened up a bit and began the 6km climb up the red mountain road toward Moerdenaarspoort farm 12 kms away. Half way up the mountain the storm returned, this time it meant business. It rained so hard that our lights reflected off the rain drops causing a sheet of light that made seeing difficult. It’s tricky keeping those pedals turning going down steep hills on a muddy slippery district road against the brakes, just stop rotating that crank for a moment and instantly the chain is off! Punishment for letting the chain slip off is to stop in the freezing rain, take your -20C rated warm full length gloves off and put the chain back on. Eventually your fingers are numb and even that simple task becomes quite difficult causing more time to be lost in the rain and mud.
We reached Moordenaarspoort farm at midnight and must have looked like filthy drowned rats. Gary was waiting inside the support station. He immediately made us a warm drink. I was extremely grateful to be out of the bone chilling rain and wind. Drinking something warm was ecstasy and slowly as we dried and got warm the shivering subsided. Most importantly Gary had good news, besides calling Arthur from the top of the mountain, he had also managed to call Chris Fisher who agreed to detour to Moordenaarspoort. Chris had Gary’s original wheel (the one that had failed back in Donny brook and then had been repaired) with him in his bakkie. Gary would put his original wheel back on his bike then I could take over the substitute wheel his wife had borrowed from a friend which would fit my bike set up. Great! Now we only had a shoe problem to deal with, things were looking up. After a 19 hour day from the pits of hell we finally went to sleep.
DAY7 Moordenaarspoort - Kranskop 38kms
We woke to a howling north west wind that had followed in the wake of the storm system. Lounging around luxuriating in the fact that we were able to rest and didn’t have to ride whilst we waited for Chris was heavenly. You don’t waste the time though, you fix kit, clean kit, attend to sore bits etc but thankfully for a change you are not on the saddle. Chris arrived at +-09h00.We quickly swopped the wheels out and set off for Kranskop at 10h00 given that the timer on our 4 hour day time penalty for outside assistance was already ticking from 6am. There wasn’t the normal level of pressure to keep moving as we only had to ride 38kms to Kranskop where we would hopefully wait for the arrival of the shoes.
Nature had decided that there was going to be no rushing in any event as we were riding against probably somewhere in the region of a 70km/hr headwind. The 38kms that should have taken 3 hours took 5 hours but that’s still a very short day on RASA. At times I felt like getting off and pushing the bike the wind was so strong. Silently I thanked Gavin for his glasses – without those glasses my eyes would have been sand blasted. We reached Kranskop farm mid-afternoon. Again, there was no signal so we couldn’t find out about the inbound shoes. We had faith in Arthur but we waited and wondered. At 19h00 a white golf arrived - it was Steve with the shoes! He also had the wheel set and a shock pump. I now had Gary’s substitute wheel on my bike so didn’t need the wheel Arthur had sent nor did I want another penalty, besides we thought it may not be the most sensible idea to start changing clusters from one wheel to the other. Then Chris Fisher arrived unexpectedly at Kranskop (random event). I asked him to keep the wheel set Arthur had sent in his bakkie and that I would get it from him at the end of the race. We thanked Steve profusely before he left on the long drive back to Cape Town, he told us that he had had to drive the golf really slowly in case he blew a low profile tyre on the rough dirt roads. It had taken him 20 hours to find us, I was amazed that he had! Between the penalties and the time lost due to the mechanicals we had lost a full day but we had dodged a large bullet. That surely was the end of our mechanical problems?
DAY8 Kranskop – Brosterlea - Romanfontein 121kms
The north wester continued to howl the next morning but we were in good spirits. Our problems were behind us now and we could focus on catching up some of the lost time, wind or no wind. About an hour later as I applied power, I felt the pedal slip. On closer inspection I realised that the smallest ring on the rear cluster (of the substitute wheel) had stripped. After a small amount of cursing I accepted that I had now lost 1 gear of 12, not the end of the world, the other 11 will still get me to Paarl. We rode on into the blasting north wester reaching Brosterlea support station mid-morning.
A couple of hours after leaving Brosterlea my gears started jumping. The substitute wheel cluster was a 3-piece cluster as opposed to a single cluster machined from one block of metal which is the much stronger option. I would never have chosen a 3 piece for the race as I knew they were prone to movement but beggars could not be choosers. The stripping of the small part component of the 3-piece cluster had now allowed movement to occur and the 2 bigger component pieces of the cluster with the balance of the bigger gear rings were wobbling badly! Essentially the cluster was disintegrating and the chain was jumping from one gear ring to the next. All the power of the pedal stroke goes through the drive chain and is then transferred to that cluster, no way it would last to Paarl in that state. I just couldn’t believe it, another major mechanical the very next day. Someone is taking the piss, can’t be! Again, we were signal-less so we couldn’t phone. Again, we were miles from the next support station being Romansfontein. Again, this was potentially a race ending mechanical.
It was a very stressful ride 50-odd km ride to Romansfontein. Although I had to be very careful with my gear changing, I could still ride the bike although I expected the whole cluster to collapse and fall apart at any moment. But it didn’t.
Closer to the support station we found a signal and called Chris. I knew he had my old wheel and the wheel that Arthur had sent. We could take my original cluster off my old wheel and put it on the new wheel Arthur had sent. That would work and I’d be back in business but only if Chris was still somewhere in our vicinity. Lady luck was on my side again. Chris had decided not to drive further down the race route like he had originally planned, he was actually at Romansfontein (random coincidence) filming the race and could assist!
One of the first things you do when you arrive at a support station is collect your 2lt ice cream box. These are boxes you have packed with food and spares that you use on the race that have been shipped to each support station in advance by the organisers. In every one of my boxes there was a message of encouragement from home courtesy of the females in my family, wife, mother and 2 daughters. It had been another nerve-wracking day not knowing whether I was going to be forced out the race by mechanical problems.
Arriving at Romansfontein Chris and his cameraman were incredibly kind and volunteered to swop the cluster and wheel for me, I think they could tell I was totally wasted. Whilst I wearily watched them work on my bike, I opened my 2lt box and in it was a message from my youngest daughter Amy. As I started reading the note I suddenly felt completely overwhelmed. Embarrassingly the tears flowed freely. I think that the night’s sleep that I missed, the long days we had put in and the stress of being out of the race and then the relief of being back in it twice had finally caught up with me. Gary and Van stuck with me whilst I served another 4 hour day time penalty the following morning. We accepted that 16 days was probably no longer on the cards. We had lost one and a half days of riding time but we had dodged bullet number 2!
I am going to end this story here although there was another 10 days and 1400kms that followed. I had no further mechanicals on the race not even a puncture. I had problems with my stomach, probably from drinking farm water and we had another 9 days of strong headwinds but that didn’t stop us and we reached Paarl in 18 days.
Day 6 and 8 will be etched in my memory forever. When you think you are defeated, RASA taught me that you are not. When you feel despair, RASA shows you that human beings are resourceful and compassionate and will lift your spirits. When you are missing your “normal” life, RASA teaches you to patiently await its return. Gavin’s withdrawal helped fix critical kit issues. Gary, with his wheel problem that ended up causing him to ride with Van and I which in turn allowed him to make that call to Arthur which saved our race. Arthur, his incredible support and resourcefulness, Steve dropping everything and racing off to find us in the middle of nowhere, Van’s companionship and level head throughout, Chris going the extra mile and being in the right place at the right time twice. A combination of so many helpful genuine human beings along with several random events and coincidences pulled it all together.
In life, any significant event that places you far outside of your comfort zone, may also have a similar effect on you. RASA has certainly helped me deal with stress. I can handle not being in control far better. I think back to those days in the high Eastern Cape mountains whilst I sit here on Lockdown not knowing and uncertain about our future lives. But I have hope and faith that in the new and unknown world that we are entering, the human spirit and resourcefulness will shine through. That in adversity we will unite, show more compassion towards one another and win through in the end. Freedom Challenge - Race across South Africa is difficult but doable for any relatively fit person with a sense of adventure and willing to be out of their comfort zone. My personal take from both 2017 and 2019 was that it underlined the fact that life is completely unpredictable: life is a compilation of random events subject to the law of attraction. In the present moment we often do not see random events for what they are. But as we get older, we mature, look back at our lives and possibly come to the conclusion that it is how we responded to those random events that has shaped our life’s journey.
Andrew
