A lot of our personal bests were set in the period around our failed mission to complete the Cape Epic. The Cape Epic is an amazing bike race with professional and amateur mountain bikers racing over some of the most spectacular and hilly terrain in the Eastern Cape area of South Africa. John Woodrow, a fellow rider from Dunfermline and his partner completed the race in 2011 which is an awesome achievement as it is tough going.
We had gained one of the few places up for grabs exactly one year before the start of the race in early March 2009 giving us 12 months to prepare for what was going to be the challenge of a lifetime for both of us. Derek always has been a great cyclist and a brilliant friend so when he wanted to join me I could not of been happier.
Over the next 12 months we trained like badgers (not sure where I picked that up because I've never seen a badger train!) and we were physically as fit as we had ever been when we set off. The days before the race involved registration in Cape Town, an immense pre-race party where the Scottish contingent ( Derek and I ) got a huge welcome from the assembled teams.
On the morning of the race we were bussed from the hotel into the country for the start of the Cape Epic 2010. A year of training had gone into this point and we were nervous and excited about what lay ahead. 1,200 riders in teams of 2 lined up as the TV helicopters swooped overhead allowing the pilot to display the full array of his skills. There was much hanging around, picture taking and chat with fellow racers. We heard the gun going off and we made our way over the start line - it felt incredible that we had made it, were fit and ready for the challenges that lay ahead.
The first hill was not far away. There was over 2000m of climbing on the 134km first stage and with so many bikes in the chute at the start we were soon frustrated with the stop start nature of the climbing. It was steep and if the person in front decided to stop there was no-where to go so you stopped as well. Things didn't get any easier as we moved into the single track section.
We were moving well when I heard a pop and realised I had punctured. I jumped off the bike, pulled into the scrub at the side of the path and was about to start repairing the wheel when a voice shouted across ' I wouldn't do that there - too many snakes!' You can imagine I had the bike back on it's wheels and over my shoulder quicker than you could say snake bite! I had no choice but to run which with my multi sport background was easy. I managed to keep up with the bikes and after a coupe of kilometres found some space to change the tyre. We did it pretty fast and got back on the trail. We were down in the vineyards and the trails had opened up so it was much easier to get moving.
As we started the next long climb we passed loads of bikes eventually finishing the climb on the smooth tar road that went over the pass. The decent on the other side was exhilarating and we were soon off the smooth tar and back on what we call in Scotland, stalkers tracks. These are rough landrover tracks that allow travel through the wilder hills of Scotland. In South Africa the tracks were full of soft sandy patches that it took some skill to negotiate.
This is when disaster occurred and a rider jumped across the track and caught Derek's back wheel, knocking him headfirst into a wall. When I got to him he was just coming round and completely disorientated. As I was wondering what to do a medic appeared over the hill and suggested he would patch up Derek if I sorted out his mangled bike. The handlebars were at 90 degrees and the damage was mostly superficial with a few scrapes mechanically his bike was ok. Derek on the other hand wasn't in such good shape. The medic walked behind Derek and gave me a signal that it was all over. I was ready to head for the pick up when Derek told me that we were going to carry on and he set off. I hung back and had a word with the medic who told me about the damage to Derek's arm and legs and told me he would keep an eye on us.
We charged off and setting a good pace made our way to the next water point. The trouble started with cramp. Part of the reaction of a big crash is shock and Derek's body was telling him the same message that the medic had shared with me and he shouldn't be riding. We must have looked a right pair as Derek cramped up time and time again, each time me trying to massage the legs and Derek in excruciating pain. He fought on and we completed the last big climb of the day. The relief of reaching a point that was only 25km from the end was evident and we were cheered by the volunteers manning the point as we set off to the finish. The cramps were coming every mile and lasting longer and on top of that Derek's left arm was badly staved and he couldn't brake or control the bike with his left hand.
I realised that even if we did finish today it was going to at the cost of completing the race so at the next bout of cramp I persuaded Derek to call it a day and sadly our race was over. We sat in the pick up truck disconsolate and stunned.
Derek went off to the medical tent and I took the bikes to the cleaning bay. He appeared at our tents looking like he had been 10 rounds with Mike Tyson.
About an hour later we were sitting in the food tent, alone eating what was left of supper when a Belgian racer wandered in and sat down. He confessed to being the rider who had knocked Derek off and apologised for wrecking our race. We had no animosity to the guy, accidents happen and it obviously wasn't intentional although 'beware of Belgians' has become our coded warning if there are any dodgy riders out in the pack!
We decided the next day that there was no purpose in not making the most of the experience so hired a car, found a route and set off to the wine lands!
Every cloud has a sliver lining!
The 2013 race begins this weekend I think and would I go back and do it again - not a chance!
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