RASA 2017 - by Marnitz Nienaber

So sit ek bykans twee weke later en top oor die jaar se Challenge, my vinnigste tot op datum. Kyk vanjaar moes nie eers gewees het nie, as Handelaarshoof van Vredendal Toyota moet daar eers 'n paar goedjies in plek val en om 50+ mensies gelukkig te hou gebeur nie altyd so maklik nie, veral nie as jy in die voorafgaande maand 'n paar nuwe aanstellings maak nie. Die mensies moet mekaar eers vind en baie gelukkig is ek bevoorreg om 'n reg span mense saam met my te kan hê en het hulle mekaar gevind en baie goed presteer terwyl ek op my fietsie deur die land gereis het.

Om in Vredendal te oefen is nie maklik nie, dis nie plat nie en dan spring die kwik diep in die veertigs in, soms haal dit sommer vyftig, ek dink spesifiek aan een Sondag wat die beplanning was om 'n baie lange te doen, wel na 6 ure en 110 km het my rit ge-eindig teen 'n gemiddelde tempratuur van 48 Grade. Ek was gedihidreer en wou nie meer die lou water in my bottel drink nie, die Ingelsman gebel en gesmeek om my te kom haal, ek kon eenvoudig nie meer nie...... Die groot nadeel van die hitte is dat jy daaraan gewoont raak, op dit seker manier maak dit jou hard, maar as dit -11 word is daar bykans 'n verkil van 60 Grade en dan vrek jy van die koue. Ek het al nagte buite geslaap op die race, maar ek kan in alle eerlikheid sê, dis nog die koudste wat ek gekry het.

Dan het Vredendal storm winde, kyk in Klerksdorp waai die wind altyd, matigend, maar in Vredendal is daar tekens van Windwaaiers, hier Storm die wind, maal dit met slegte sand paaie en 40 Grade plus en skaap chops en brannewyn en coke saam met die gasvryheid van die kontrei en jy het 'n lekker resep om nie te oefen nie, wat dan ook so die geval was. Ek het myself met drawwery besig gehou in Desember, in Januarie so bietjie begin besighou met die fiets, maar eers werklik suutjies begin oefen toe ek oorslaan na oggend ry wanneer die nie so blaas nie. Ek was op 'n stadium heel uit die race, die min oefen, lang ure by die werk en die gasvryheid van die kontrei het net teveel geraak, ek het vir Meryl laat weet, wat dit net eenvoudig nie wou aanvaar nie.

En so gebalsem met die vetjies vind ek myself toe op die startline een vroeë oggend in Junie, meer en deels die gevolg van Meryl se hardnekkigheid, JT en Mike wat ek op die recce vergesel het, wat my aanhou por het om deel te neem. Moet sê die recce het ek as 'n toets van my fiksheid gesien en die krampe op die eerste dag het die werklikheid weergegee, maar ook die lus in my wakker gemaak en JT se woorde van pace jouself net het in my agterkop vasgesteek.

Moet erken die eerste paar dae het maar bars gegaan, vir my heeltyd gevoel of ek myself weer alleen op die tandem bevind het en ek moes myself maar baie mooi pace, my grootste voordeel was die roete kennis, een ding minder om oor te worry.

So het ek myself maar dag vir dag gepace in die hoop dat ek fiks sou wees wanneer ek in Rhodes sou aankom, ek moes maar ook op bolip byt wanneer daar agtervolgers in die omgewing was, gelukkig het die spekkies dit baie maklik gemaak.

Soos in 'n vorige jaar herenig ek en Tim weer in Slaapkranz, ek en die man, moet ek sê verstaan mekaar en ry bitter lekker saam, ons weet wanneer om te trap en wanneer om te praat, ek was seker fiks in Rhodes maar die koue het my teruggehou, maar van Slaapkranz kon ek voel ek het die tandem afgeskud, die Rush het spoed gesoek al was dit teen die wind, ek wou net jaag. Ek en Tim het 'n baie goeie verstandhouding, albei baie verstand en baie houding en ons het die kilo's opgerol, soms saam mekaar en soms alleen om dan net weer saam te ry. Dit was vir my 'n baie groot eer en voorreg om sy sewende kombers aan hom te oorhandig en ek glo hy het die gevoel gedeel met die oorhandiging van my kombers. Ons het dit eintlik een vroeë oggend in die Osseberg besluit en dit gestand gedoen, wat 'n voorreg om die race met my mentor te kon deel !!!

Ek wonder soms hoekom ek so vroeg in die middernagtelike ure weggetrek het en in die vriesende koue oggend ure ingery het, my plan was om deur die nag te ry en dan in die vroeë oggend ure hinderlaag te lê, wanner ek die support station vir myself het. Die oorsaak was tweeledig, ek het die eerste aan vroeg gestop by Centocow wat my van daar in 'n roetine gegooi het, dit en die feit dat die volmaan eers laatnag opgekom het. Die volmaan maak 'n baie groot verskil in nag navigasie en nadat die volmaan plek gemaak het vir donkermaan was ek reeds in 'n roetine van tuseen 2-3 ure slaap en dan opstaan en ry.

Daar is net twee maal van die 2-3 uur slaap roetine afgesien, eerste keer by Slaapkranz waar ek amper verkluim het oppad soontoe en die tweede keer in Gamkaskloof waar die visgraat maneuver my teruggehou het.

Die res van die tyd was dit maar net min slaap, maar 2-3 ure slaap verrig wondere en 'n 25 minute catnap iewers onder 'n bos, wat vir baie vermaaklikheid gesorg het tussen die ander manne, soveel te meer. Ek dink spesifiek aan 'n geval in die Perdepoort, Tim was so ent voor my en het 'n 25 minute dekking geneem in die sonnetjie langs die pad, met my verbykomslag het die sing van die wiele hom wakker gemaak, hy wou nog so bietjie rus, met die volgende paar wiele wat verbykom het hy opgestaan, die manne ingehaal en weer verbygegaan. So 10 km verder het ek dit nodig geag om dekking te slaan, Tim se wiele het my eerste wakker gemaak en daarna die span agtervolgers, wat so in die mou gelag het vir die sogenaamde racing snakes wat hulle elke nou en dan onder 'n boom vind.

Ja as 'n man moeg is, is 'n man moeg en as jy jou oge toemaak is die skakelaar af en dan slaap jy eensklaps, so maklik soos dit. Dit bring my by die baie spesiale mense langs die roete, die support stations, lugpunte in 'n baie donker nag, moet sê dis nou al familie, ek het my eie kamer in elke huis en ek kry nogal voordele wat almal seker nie kry nie. Daar is 'n paar van die plekke wat my race plan heer verongeluk, ek weet ek moet verby, maar steek altyd vas, ek weet ek moet slaap, maar gesels altyd te lekker en ek weet ek moet opstaan, maar geniet altyd die laaste greinstjie vrienskap. Vir 7 jaar doen ek al aan by hulle en vir 7 jaar dra hulle my op die hande, baie opvallend is hoe vinnig die kinders groei, ek onthou vir klein Andrètjie wat bal gespeel het met my eerste visgraat maneuver en nou is hy 'n groot man wat my inwag op 'n perd, Sandra en Diederik, Wil en Stephanie se pragtige dogters, daai tyd op skool, nou amper op trou. Tyd vlieg, ek voel nie ouer nie, die ouers lyk ook nie vir my ouer nie, maar die kinders word groot.......

My eie kinders ook, hulle belangstelling in die ondekkende race geprikkel deur my jare se ervarings word ook groter. Alison en Danielle wil die ervaring saam met hul Pa deel, en die dag se aanbreek is nie vêr nie, hopelik is ek uitgerus teen daai tyd. Dit sal vir my 'n groot voorreg wees om die ervaring met hulle te kan deel, twee taai meisiekinners daai.

Ondersteuning is baie belangrik op die race, die kleinste kortste boodskappie is goud werk en as jy so dan en wan nog 'n gesels ook kan inkry, soveel te beter. Dankie my wonderlike vrou, kinders, familie en vriende vir julle ondersteuning, dit was regtig lekker om so elke nou en dan in die seinlose wonder wêreld van julle te kon hoor.

Die Freedom Challenge is 'n nederige race, en as jy nie nederig is nie, sal die Liewe Vader jou op jou kniee dwing en sorg dat Moeder Natuur jou nederig maak. Die hele race selfs Modor is asemrowend mooi en soms is dit net nodig om vir 'n oomblik stil se sit en God se Almag te ervaar, en dis dit wat die race vir my so bitter spesiaal maak.....

Twee weke later nadat ek klaar gemaak het, is my vingerpunte en my toontjies steeds dood, die visgraat hak nogsteeds in my pens, seker nie gewoont aan die snaakse kos wat ek nou eet nie, ek is 8 kg ligter, die blaas op my hak het verander in 'n moerse eelt, my kniee glad nie meer seer nie, ek sweet nog so nou en dan in die nag, droom nie meer ek is iewers op die pad besig om te race nie en dan wonder ek so terwyl ek die sterre beskou gaan ek ooit weer ry ???

Ek en Tim het mekaar die oggend in die Osseberg belowe ons is nou klaar, net hierdie enetjie klaar maak, want 6 is die duiwel se getal en die race het duur geword, pepper duur, uitgelewer aan 'n paar bevoorregtes. Dis nie net jou inskrywing nie, dis jou klere, jou fiets, jou bokse, vliegkaartjies, verblyf aan die einde en nog 'n hele span jakalsies wat geld vreet. Dis 'n jammerte, want toe ek my sommetjies maak vir 'n dubbel inskrywing saam met een van my dogters, toe weet ek sommer die tyd om te begin spaar het nou aangebreek.

En tog ten spyte van die kostes, wonder ek reeds oor watter tipe dyno hub ek moet gebruik, watter skoene ek volgende keer kan gebruik en oor wanneer die volgende keer gaan wees, want jy sien elke jaar belowe ek, ek is klaar en dan kom die kat weer en vind ek myself weer op die startline......

Race to Cradock 2017 - by George Evans

Race to Cradock 2017 - 6 days adventuring by MTB through the Eastern Cape, South Africa

The Freedom Challenge – Solo Adventure Racing - by Tim Deane

What a ride, what a journey, what an experience!  The Freedom Challenge - Race Across South Africa is tailor-made for adventure racers and many more of us should be embracing this event.  There are a number of well-written articles and blogs that give beautifully detailed descriptions of the route, landscape and fabulous people on the trail.  I present my simple account of the 2016 experience, as a newbie.  By TIM DEANE

I woke with a start.  Bugger!  I’d overslept.  I knew that if I left Hadley by 04:00 I would be safely through the gate.  However, after sharing a breakfast with Liehann at Hadley, I had decided to have a quick catnap and unfortunately woke 2 hours later at 05:45.  Adrenalin coursed through my body as I flew out the door, figuring that I had blown my chances (‘the gate’, a new feature in the 2016 event, is 30 minutes on from Cambria, closes at 14:00 and only re-opens at 06:00).  Two hours later, I’d started down the overgrown and rutted jeep track down to the Grootrivier.  It is a spectacular descent that demands concentration and is a fitting prelude to the main attraction of this section.  I was fired up by the challenge of making it through the legendary lost world of the Osseberg track, and still trying to pull off the gate cut-off!  This would keep me in contention for a sub-13 day finish.

There was an urgency to every minute and after stashing all items in my dry bag, I lowered myself down the bank about 600m downstream of the first crossing (an attempted, but unsuccessful, short-cut).  The river was waist deep here and I struggled to scramble up the steep opposite bank and through thick undergrowth to the faint track shown on the map.  I resolved from then on to stick to the track, which was easier said than done.  The following 2 hours were consumed in a focussed progression over a further 5 crossings.  My nav was going nicely despite difficult path-finding and other obstacles such as the heinous cactuses which seem intent on attacking all who pass.  Three crossings remained as I rounded the northern-most point of the track, and at 11:40 I was starting to believe that I would just make the cut-off.

I took a quick breather for some food before the final push, but as I put my backpack down I immediately noticed that the top pouch was unzipped and empty!  My snacks and the all-important tracker were missing.  The body blow floored me.  In a state of panic, I charged back along the route hoping to find the tracker.  At the 3rd repeated crossing close to a ruin, I found a chocolate bar floating forlornly in the river.  A grid-search in the cold murky water revealed nothing except slippery smooth rocks as my fingers soon went numb.  Still refusing to accept the loss I went further up the track to where I’d previously opened the zip for a snack, just in case.  Nothing.

I yelled out in frustration!  It was a despondently slow trudge onwards, and after crossing the game fence, I picked up cellphone signal to get a message out to race office and dot-watching family and friends.  I was gutted and just sat in the sun for a while.

Day 1 was epic!  5000m of cumulative climbing over 200km of cycling in 15.5 hours from Pietermaritzburg to Ntsikeni.  It was physically tough, but after getting over this intense start, the next couple of days went smoothly.  I was navigating well and enjoying riding with Theo.  However, my body took a beating with the long hours of riding.  I battled with tendonitis in my right wrist and developed a chest infection, also known as ’freedom lung’.  Riding with company was entertaining, but early out of Rhodes on day 4 our group blew apart in the light drizzle with Theo seizing the gap, Bruce riding steadily, and me lagging behind.  I’d known from the start that this was the kind of event that could easily put best laid plans to waste.  No plan can ably deal with the distance, the weather, illness, mechanicals, injuries, poor recovery, sleepiness, the difference in day-time vs. night-time speeds, sleepmonsters, navigation and the risk of getting lost or taking long-cuts.  This all adds to the complexity of this beautiful challenge.  I was happy to aim for a reasonable start, just roll with the punches, adjust the plan on the fly, listen to my body and enjoy the trail.

The three portages of Kapokkraal, Slaapkrantz, and Loutrebron went pretty well, although darkness engulfed me on the saddle between Loutrebron and Bontehoek.  A tricky descent and a stop-start struggle through sandy farm fields and over and along multiple fences ensued.  I eventually made it to the small town of Rossouw at around 8pm, where my wheels came off properly.  The relatively easy 200m-over-10km-climb out of Rossouw felt like the 4th and toughest portage of the day!  I wheezed, coughed, walked, and stopped my way up the climb over an eternal 3.5 hours.  My chest was closing up in the evening cold air and felt like I was operating on half a lung.  Moordenaarspoort was a welcome oasis as I dragged my sorry state inside after 23:00.

Day 5 dawned and it was bitterly cold.  I remember stopping in the middle of the 392 district road across from the school at Swempoort and shoving my feet (shoes still on) into my backpack to try get my toes warmed up.  I sent some photos and messages to family and friends.  Being in contact from time to time is an interesting facet of the race.  It is awesome to get messages of support which definitely boost energy and motivation.  Also, sharing news of hardships and curveballs seems to draw a line under these so that you can move on.  My day ended up ok as I reached Romansfontein at 8:30pm.  Here the host family crowded around me in their kitchen as we chatted about the craziness of it all, between mouthfuls of delicious food.  The hosting along the route is incredible and the personalities and their life stories are a rich tapestry.  I felt criminally rude to be rushing through 2 stops a day and vowed that I’d be back for a more leisurely ride with enough time to really appreciate the fine hosting.  Wishing my hosts goodnight I found an empty bed amongst the riders who were fast asleep.  Apparently my bad chest and blocked nose combined to unleash some horrendous snoring.  Sorry folks!

Disaster hit at 03:00 on day 6 when my bike light refused to switch on after the electronics failed.  I was annoyed as it was something I couldn’t fix, and I had to make do with just a headlamp for the rest of the race.  The light, 2 battery packs and charger were now dead weight.  Bruce and I worked our way up Aasvoëlberg together and shared news from the trail.  He chose the track over the high point while I contoured around left and we met again as he came hurtling down.

But luck and skill deserted me moments later as I strayed too close to a dry dead shrub which got stuck in between my derailleur and spokes.  A working bike light might have helped to avoid this.  The same could be said for better steering!  The grating noise gave me the heads-up that it was not a pretty sight.  Shit!  Annoyance gave way to bewilderment.  The hanger was ironically unscathed since I was carrying a spare.  The XTR carbon cage holding the jockey wheels was in pieces, the main body of the derailleur had some damage and 2 spokes were dented, but ok (I don’t normally go for carbon parts but that’s how it came when I picked up my 2nd hand Niner a few months earlier).  Attention to the minutest of details and opting for the more robust and reliable components should be the mantra in a race of this length but hindsight is an easy science.  While wondering what I should do, the cold wind suggested an urgent escape from up high would be best, so I removed chain and derailleur, taped the cable down and freewheeled the 6km down to Magdala farmhouse.  Here I found shelter behind a ruin and opted to nap my troubles away.  I woke an hour later to daylight and set about creating a single speed.

The first 5km on the move was a sluggish ride as I experimented with different gearing ratios.  A sudden appearance of riders behind me triggered feelings of comradeship and comfort that I was not alone in this challenge.  Envy and false bravado soon followed as I realised I wouldn’t be able to keep up with them on my single-speed and that I was feeling down but didn’t want to show it.  At that same time, I yearned for some sympathy, even if they couldn’t help.  But Wait!  They could indeed help me!!  Ann and Grant casually mention that Brad is carrying a spare derailleur and as he and Scott pull up I strain to contain my excitement and relief, not wanting to jump to conclusions that he’d actually part with his prized spare.  “So Brad, I hear…”

Brad’s an absolute gent and I’m very lucky to be back in business, for the day ahead at least.  In the words of Steve Burnett: “Who the hell carries a spare derailleur??!!!!  That's a lot of beer you owe him now.  Good thing it was the right speed.“  The pie at Karoobos coffee shop in Hofmeyer with Scott is immensely satisfying, after which we ride together to Elandsberg and on to Newlands.  On the way I stopped near a lone buffalo about 20m off the trail.  I needed to check map distance to which Scott chirped “Do you think you can do that a little further along?”  The Newlands stop was warm and festive and I enjoyed being a bit more social.  I’d been in contact with Johann and Meryl at race office who kindly organised for a derailleur to arrive late morning at Newlands.  I got busy stripping and cleaning Brad’s spare before passing out on the couch.

Johann, Meryl and Glenn combine to create a very effective race organisation team and ensure a fantastic race experience for all riders.  Their live race coverage and fine spirit manifest as a sincere interest in how your race is going.  Not to mention their resourceful problem-solving and managing the challenging logistics in a race where front and back of the field can be separated by more than 1000km!  I was massively motivated to ride hard again by the time my replacement part arrived as promised.  It was now just over 6 days into the race and 3 days had gone according to plan, and 3 days not so well!  I’d lost about 2/3 of a day with chest trouble, the bike lights and the derailleur.  At this point, I’d mentally checked out of racing Bruce, Theo and the trio of batch G riders Tim, Mike and Liehann, having figured I’d lost too much time.  The major motivator was now a Saturday evening finish and I sensed this was under threat.  The restriction of the Baviaans Reserve gate closing time (14:00) was looming large and consequently, Hadley by 04:00 on Tuesday was a key target.  I was worried though that even making it through 4 sections in 1.5 days to Bucklands was going to be too tough, never mind getting through to Hadley.

Grootdam came sooner than expected after a quick “Hi-Bye” to Pierre on the approach to Skurftebergkop.  The serenity of solo riding was starting to take a hold of me and I forged up the Struishoek portage in the dark after having made a complete mess of the start.  I had passed the Grootvlakte buildings and ended up too far south - exploring animal tracks, thorny dongas, and climbing over a game fence before finally finding the riverbed and the road further up.  The relief of being back on track half an hour later merged with the irritation of wasted effort and time.  There are just so many opportunities to leak time on this race!  The rest of the portage went well, but was definitely quite challenging and slow in the dark.  I arrived in a drizzle at Gegun and noticed my front shock was locked out and had a damaged remote-lockout coupling-clamp which I guess was due to the portage or a fence crossing.  It was 03:30 and some sleep would have been great but I was forced to trade this for fixing time.  I needed to make a plan and I borrowed both Ann and Grant’s multi-tools while they got ready to leave after their sleep.  The clamp was bent and wouldn’t stay seated.  And without tension the shock defaulted to ‘locked-out’.  I cursed the poor design – surely the failure mode should be an active shock?  Duct tape came to the rescue as I eventually Mcguyver’ed the lockout into a fully tensioned and permanently active position.  Throughout this ordeal I could feel that I was thinking, moving and problem-solving far too slowly.  2 hours whizzed by before I was ready to head out the door again. 

A tough, hot and windy day of riding followed and included a nap under a thorny bush near Darlington Dam wall.  The Gwaas valley was a definite low point for me - incredibly tedious and pretty ugly.  The slow and bumpy track and the game fences were a real challenge and my pace and enjoyment only improved as I neared Kleinpoort in the cool early evening.  Bucklands arrived soon enough after that and good hospitality and tiredness kept me there till 10pm.  The final push to Hadley took longer than expected and I arrived after 02:30, buggered.  370km in 38 hours with two catnaps will do that to you.  Liehann joined me in the kitchen on his way out and I opted for that ‘20 minute’ nap…

When you have too much time on your hands you do things inefficiently.  The wait for the gate opening at Cambria provided some rejuvenation, although I could have used this time better.

At 05:30 the following day it was ‘once more unto the breach’ as I toured the Baviaanskloof with Grant and Anne to reach Willowmore after nightfall.  It was then on to Prince Albert, a measly 160km of cycling through the night and into the following day.  Up the dramatic Prince Albert Pass with it’s beautiful rock formations and into ‘Die Hell’.  I was feeling strong, until a heavy sleepiness caught me unawares and I passed out midway through an eerily quiet solo dinner in Gamkaskloof.  A short sleep morphed into a long sleep.  Again.  11 days down and I still had 400km ahead of me.

After that I was on a home-bound mission.  The next two days flew by incredibly quickly.  Rouxpos for some famous waffles, Anysberg at pace, Montagu in the dark, McGregor in the early morning mist and arrival at Trouthaven after midday.  So close to home, but Stettynskloof beckoned as a most fitting final obstacle.  ‘Stettyns’ is the mother of all hike-a-bikes.  It is a massively overgrown, protea-bush-infested kloof which claims everyone’s sense of humour, multiple items of gear and the odd bicycle.  It’ll take you 8 hours in daylight to cover 10km, if you know what you’re doing.

At 2pm I rolled out of Trouthaven and headed into the kloof, chasing daylight.  Most people start this section at dawn.  I did not have that luxury and had just enough light to find my way through the over-grown boulder scree section, which to my mind is the crux.  I battled to judge distance in the dark while working my way further up the valley and lost track of how many drainages I’d clambered through.  My left big toe was in agony from the shoe upper pressing down hard on the nail bed with every step and I fixated on the thought of getting back onto rideable track again and ending the pain.  The battle continued up the valley and feeling that the exit point was close, I crossed over the stream and started up the other side.  My judgement was poor and I had gone too early.  Pretty soon I was cliffed-out and battling to find breaks that would allow me to ascend a bit here, and traverse a bit there.  It was a slog that dragged on for ages and yet felt so close to completion for much of the time.  Some sketchy parts involved hoisting the bike up onto the steeply angled slope above, hoping it would stay, while clambering around it holding onto tufts of grass.  These were the types of moves best done at night, when you couldn’t see how bad the exposure was.

Eventually at around 23:00 I topped out and then dropped about 50m again to the neck before continuing on the mapped route.  The physical and mental shutdown had begun and I’d run out of food.  It took a further very slow 5 hours to get through Fisantekraal, up Du Toit’s Kloof Pass and down through the mist to Diemersfontein.  I can’t quite account for what happened during this time as it should have taken me closer to 2 hours.  I was in a complete daze.  Incredible relief washed over me as I finally crossed the line at 03:55 in 12 days, 22 hours.  Having my girlfriend Didi, sister Kerry and brother-in-law Paul meet me at the finish was helluva special!  Even more so considering how the last bit of tracking must have been like watching paint dry.  A huge thanks to Johann, Meryl and Glenn for also welcoming me in and for the part they played in making this an unforgettable journey.

To the AR’ers out there, you will love this challenging explorative traverse of our awesome country!!  Previous riders from the AR family have inspired many and include the likes of Martin and Jeannie Dreyer, Steve Burnett, Trevor Ball, Ugene Nel, Graham Bird, Tatum Prins, Chris and Julia Fisher to name but a few.  I hope my story adds to this, convincing a few more of us to tackle the trail and enjoy the freedom.  Come join the Clan of Blanket Wearers!

Vuvu before Nightfall - by Gareth Ochse

 

A big challenge like the Race to Rhodes isn’t something one does on a whim. It’s something that enters your head –initially as madness or hearsay, and gradually the worm grows, the what-ifs become could-I’s, and at some point,the entry is made,and the race fees are paid. Then the training begins. 

Read full report here...

RASA 2016 - Could I have gone faster? by Mike Woolnough

Before the race started I was asked how long I thought it would take me to complete the race. My answer, 13.5 days. My actual finishing time was 13.56 days. I'd say that was mission accomplished. But there is more to the story than just those numbers. At one stage it looked likely that I would be able to wrap it up at least one day faster - then the wheels fell off.

The first few days went to plan when I arrived in Rhodes in under 3 days. The next objective was to get beyond Slaapkranz on day 4. A series of thunderstorms put paid to that plan and I had an enjoyable evening in Slaapkranz. The next day just beyond Moodenaarspoort I started wheezing and coughing. A quick call had it diagnosed as a viral lung infection. I asked a simple question and received a "No" in response. The question - "Will this kill me?" While it seemed unlikely to kill me the coughing fits that erupted the moment I lay down made sleeping almost impossible.

My progress slowed to a stagger on the way to Grootdam (which is the halfway point of the race) where the Race Director caught up with me and delivered a bag of prescribed medication. This helped. What didn't help was Theo getting an injury that required the same medication. Freedom riders being selfless souls are quick to share. I might have fared better further down the trail if I had managed to keep the meds to myself but I counted myself fortunate to get any meds in the middle of nowhere and Theo's chance of getting some in the next 500km's was just short of zero.

After leaving Grootdam the focus was on making the cutoff at Cambria. We had to get there between 6am and 2pm if we didn't want to stay over at Kudu Kaya in Cambria. As it turned out we made the cutoff with only 15 minutes to spare. Unfortunately it came at a price.

Once through the gate I had chance to take stock. The focus over the last few days was getting to the gate. Now through the gate I realised that I was in terrible shape. I was running a fever and my chest felt a little tight. Unfortunately we still had to get through the Baviaanskloof reserve before there was any chance of slacking off. Once we had cleared the reserve I hit a serious flat spot. Tim and Theo pushed on ahead of me and got to Damsedrif well ahead of my arrival. The last kilometre to Damsedrif felt impossible. I stopped and looked behind me and could see the police station. It looked close enough to touch. I knew it was 2 kilometres away. I told myself that I only had to cover half that distance. It seemed easy enough, but it took me a couple of minutes to build up the energy to roll the final kilometre.

I sat at the dinning-room table and ate what I could. I asked Hestelle how far the rooms were. She said the cottages were about 200 metres away. Right behind my chair there was a couch. After eyeing the couch for a few seconds while contemplating the challenge of walking 200 metres I asked Hestelle if I could just curl up right there. She waved her magic wand and before I knew it a bed was made up on the couch.

I'm not sure how much sleep I got but I guess it wasn't much - minutes rather than hours. Hestelle commented that I coughed the whole while. She knew because her room was just up the passage.

The trip from Damsedrif to Willowmore, then through to Prince Albert and all the way through to Die Hell was scruffy. It took forever. I lost count of the number of times I lay down next to the road and fell asleep. I effectively lost a day. As mentioned previously, from Die Hell I got my rhythm back and continued my race at a decent pace.

While staggering along I yielded a full day to my competitors and saw a potential 12.5 day 3rd place finish dissolve into a 13.5 6th place finish.

So, if I didn't get sick could I have gone faster? For sure. Can I go back next year and do it faster? I'm not so sure about that!

The weather this year was good, very good. We had one day of rain, mud for and hour and no head winds of any significance. That wasn't everyone's experience but certainly was mine and the experience of those that rode around me.

I'm happy with my ride and happy with my time. Would I have liked to have ridden it without getting sick? Of course. But I don't regret the experience one bit. All the while I enjoyed good health the riding was fairly easy. In some ways, even monotonous.

If the race were to be represented by a drawing, the middle bits where I struggled would be in bright colours while the beginning and end, in the most part, would simply be shaded with a pencil. The bits where I struggled were the times where I had to really think about my race. They were the times when I questioned why I was doing the race at all. They were the times when I had to figure out how to get to the next support station. They weren't days filled with 200 or 300 kilometre riding plans. They were difficult hours spent figuring out how the make the next few kilometres. They were certainly tough but they were every bit a part of the narrative of my 2016 race as were the good days. The tough bits gave the race character. They were the essential texture of the race. We don't do this race because it's easy, we do it because it's hard. I had easy and I certainly had hard. I had a proper Freedom Challenge experience.

Why would you do FC RASA more than once? by Mike Woolnough

Why would you do FC RASA more than once?

I have just added a forth Race Across South Africa blanket to my Freedom Challenge (FC) collection that also includes four Race to Rhodes whips and two Race to Cradock windmills. I've been asked why anyone would do the FC more than once. I've also encountered people who say they have ticked that box and then they walk away never to be heard from again.

In many ways the FC events are no different to other races - I've done two each of Epic, JoBerg2c, Sani2c, Sabi Experience and a few other one day races. The second time around was to see if I could do better, and I did. But these other events never engaged me so completely as the Freedom Challenge. They were mere exercises in fitness and cold numbers.

The Freedom Challenge community is without equal in mountain biking circles, certainly in this country. The mere sight of a FC fleece creates an instant bond. It matters little if you tore across the country in 11 days or snuck in just inside the 26 day cutoff to reach the finish. The mere fact that you participated and endured says volumes about the person you are.

What makes it so special? Firstly, the route isn't marked and GPS devices are as welcome as Donald Trump at a Mexican Independence Day celebration. While a red line on the maps indicates the intended route, there are numerous options that can be taken while keeping an eye on the Out Of Bounds sections. It creates an interesting dynamic. I have been engaged with this race for ten years and can ride the entire route without maps. Yet, you will still find me and other trail veterans poring over the maps before the race tweaking our lines to either save a minute here and there or to ride lines that, while a little slower, simplify night navigation.

I sat across the table from Liehann Loots in Anysberg during this years race. As we drank our coffee we spoke about what it was we wanted from the race. We, just like many other riders, were after the same experience - to go it alone and put down our best performance to date. Arriving at that point, I believe, is an iterative process. The first time on the trail in 2007 was incredibly hard. I struggled everyday and had to deal with a constant barrage of self doubt and anxiety. Those 3 weeks changed the way I rode my bike. There was something about the total engagement offered by the Freedom Challenge than tarnished the shine of regular events. I was never going to be a contender in a regular race. The FC opened a whole new world of racing where tenacity counted for as much as athletic ability.

Over the years I have refined my approach to endurance events. I have encountered and in some ways learnt to tame the funk that results from extreme sleep deprivation. I have come to understand the ability of the body and mind to bounce back when completely drained. This year we saw the old strategy of veteran Tim James' and myself ride-until-you-drop juxtaposed with the ride-fast-sleep-well of Bruce Hughes and Liehann Loots. A contrast that is certainly going to be examined and added into the mix in the years ahead.

It has been said that the Freedom Challenge is as hard as you want it to be. In many ways that is true. Simply riding from one support station to another every day is still a big ask. No one is forcing you to walk out the door and do a double or ride on into the night. It's a personal choice. The fact that the choice exists makes it attractive. Doing the first day double to Ntsikeni or getting to Rhodes in under 3 days is still a goal that many find attractive and would like to achieve.

So why come back and do the race again? We all want different things. Perhaps it's just about time-out and spending a few weeks in a different space. Perhaps it's about plumbing new depths in your being. Or perhaps, like me, you just want to prove to yourself that you're not past your use-by date.

The Freedom Challenge - by Mike Ward

The Freedom Challenge

Within the diverse and growing tribe of mountain bikers there is a small clan known as the ‘blanket wearers’. They have taken up one of the greatest challenges in mountain biking: to ride 2300km across South Africa through some of the most beautiful and remote parts of KwaZulu-Natal, the Eastern Cape and the Western Cape. The trail, known as the Freedom Trail, has riders in awe as it links together district roads, farm tracks, old wagon routes, cattle tracks and sometimes no track at all. A number of events take place along this magical thread across our country. The best known is the Race Across South Africa (also commonly known as the Freedom Challenge) that takes place in mid-winter (June/ July) each year.

Legend has it that way back in 2003, David Wadilove ran from Cape Town to Pietermaritzburg to compete in the Comrades Marathon. As he went he chatted to local inhabitants and pieced together a route that sought to stay off tar roads and traverse as many natural areas as possible. The following year David, along with his brother and a friend, ran the Comrades and then rode the trail from Pietermaritzburg to Wellington before paddling the Berg Canoe marathon. And so began one of the greatest mountain bike trails in South Africa. An increasing number of national and international participants discover its natural beauty and generous hospitality each year.

In numbers the challenge looks daunting: 2300km (if you don’t get too lost), 37 000m of ascent, 26 support stations and 83 maps with which to navigate. And you need to carry 8-10kgs of clothes and spares with you. But the numbers do little to give a sense of the scale of the undertaking. Without GPS you are forced to stop and look at your surroundings as you find your route with carefully prepared 1:50 000 maps, a narrative description of the route, a simple bike computer and a trusty compass. This can add hours to each day’s riding and ensures that long ridges like Lehana’s Pass or valleys like Baviaanskloof, Gamkaskloof and Stettynskloof are etched in your imagination long before you get to them and remain there for years after.

The vast majority of the route is rideable but there is usually a section each day that requires that you push the bike or put it on your back and carry it. These portages have a fearsome reputation and some such as Lehana’s Pass over the Drakensberg, the Osseberg into Bavianskloof, Die Leer out of Die Hel and Stettynskloof in the *** are spoken about in hushed tones whenever blanket wearers get together.

So how does a mountain biker survive along the Freedom Trail? Very well actually as one of the greatest achievements of this trail is to bring together some of the most welcoming and generous hosts that it has ever been my good fortune to meet. There are 26 support stations and a number of intermediate stops spread across the country at 50-100km intervals. These vary from farm houses, to game lodges, to rural schools and communities, to hotels, to historic missions. What does not vary is the unbelievable commitment of the hosts who seem to never sleep as riders arrive at all hours needing food, a shower, warm beds and laundry washed and dried before early departures. As guests in these support stations it is obvious that we benefit from years of relationship-building by the race organisers and previous riders. And it is this chance to interact with such a diversity of people that makes the Freedom Challenge as much a cultural experience as it is a ride through such a diversity of ecosystems.

But this is also a race and while only a few people each year are racing to win, many of us set our own personal challenges – not just to finish but to finish in a time that gets us up early and enjoying our bikes all day long. The length of each day is entirely up to each individual rider. Essentially this is a one-stage stage race. From the time you start in Pietermaritzburg, the clock starts ticking and it does not stop until you finish at Diemersfontein wine estate in Wellington near Cape Town. This means that any time you spend sleeping or eating or sorting out bike maintenance issues, all add to your final finishing time. The current record holder, Martin Dreyer (7 times Dusi canoe marathon winner), finished in 10 days 16 hours and averaged 2-3 hours of sleep per day throughout this time. The 2015 race winner, Tim James, spent less than 80 hours in support stations over the 13 days 7 hours that it took him to win. Interestingly, Andrew Barnes (who came second by just 30 minutes) rode faster between support stations but then spent almost twice as long recovering and enjoying the hospitality at the support stations.

Somewhere between the racing snakes and the 26 day cut-off is where the vast majority of the riders set their personal challenge. For most this means sticking to the support stations from Pietermaritzburg to Rhodes Village (6 support stations) and then doubling up on some of the easier days through the Karoo. At present the average finishing time is 20 days. There will always be those who seek to maximise the time on the trail and the hospitality of the support stations (but here are several cutoffs along the route). And there are those who enjoy the challenge of early starts and late finishes as they push through two and occasionally three support stations in a day.

So what would an average day look like for somebody who sets out with a 17-day target? Firstly a target below 24 days is going to require a substantial amount of riding in the dark. With about 10 hours of light, navigation is always going to be a big consideration as it gets so much harder to orientate yourself in the dark. As you push for a time under 20 days there will be many days that start with 2-3 hours of riding before first light and often go 2-3 hours into the dark in the evening. Although temperatures may well be below -10C, the magnificent night skies visible from the dark remote parts of the trail more than make up for the cold. Watching sunrise and then sunset as you pedal your way across the country day after day is a bit of an acquired taste, but it can soon become something that you seek out and savour. Despite the joy of cycling, arriving at a support station provides another kind of joy. Here you collect a 2litre ice cream container that you packed weeks before; the race organisers and Aramex courier company deliver these to each of the support stations. Filled with snacks, bum cream, bike spares, maps for the next section of trail, notes of support from family and other paraphernalia, these are opened and traded each evening. Also on offer at the support stations are delicious home-cooked meals, hot showers, warm beds, laundry facilities and great company. Squirt provides chainlube, bike wash and bum cream for free along the trail which helps to keep bike and body in working order.

Every rider will no doubt have different parts of the trail that have special significance. This year, the snow as many of the earlier batches went past Rhodes Village, gave the southern Drakensberg mountains a quiet purity that will be remembered by those riders lucky enough to be up there. The Karoo had had good rains prior to the race and it was looking greener than usual. Similarly the rivers in the Osseberg and the Baviaanskloof were flowing strong and clear and the aloes were in full flower through most of the Eastern Cape. As we rode up the Swartberg Pass and into Gamkaskloof (Die Hel) the sun rose onto a green but frozen landscape as the clear nights revealed more stars than we ever imagined existed.

Each rider – no matter if you win the Race Across South Africa or sneak in on day 26 – receives a Basotho blanket and a bottle of Diemersfontein wine. And so it is that 178 of the great mountain biking tribe are known as blanket wearers. This small group has ridden along and over most of the great mountain ranges across South Africa. They have formed great friendships along the trail and met amazing people. They have felt what John Muir so beautifully captured in a quote slipped into one of the ice-cream boxes by my wife: “Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.”

For more information on the range of events that take place along the Freedom Trail see www.freedomchallenge.org.za