Long day out - WPASS 100

It had been an interesting journey to the startline. Dangerous Davo hadn’t been on his bike since he quit the Epic after his sponsors all fell away in rapid succession. Schticky Stevo had sat on his ass with a fractured scaphoid and then an elongated femoral patella ligament. Training had been condensed into two babbelaas induced paddle sessions in this funny craft the K2 (AKA the purple turtle, doing his first race since I picked him up at an auction for R400). A Saturday start at noon saw us assuming the mantle of wannabe rockstars, hitting the pubs Friday night when there was still packing and preparation to be done. Enough equipment to find Livingston was thrown in the back of a bakkie and we were on our way to the mission dorpie of Genadendal, and the start of 2007’s WPASS 100.

row row your boat

Neither of us had done anything like a 100km adventure race, and it showed by our embarrassing logistic setup in the hour before the start. With 10 minutes to go, Stevo was battling a leaky valve and didn’t know where his headlamp, or car keys were. In a mad rush I ducttaped the valve to one side to stop the leak, it lasted the full 60kays this dodgy way. Somehow we got on the line with seconds to spare and we were off, ahead lay a:
4km run
15km river (and I use that definition loosely) paddle
60km MTB
25km hike

the locals checking out the scene..the hike is in the background

We were the only team to do the sneaky shortcut to the first PC by crossing the river, my pre-race recce did not show up the knee deep quicksand and pretty soon we were wet, dirty and last. It’s a relative term in a race with only 9 teams (2 of them on the ‘Lite’ course), and we all arrived within minutes at the first transition – the paddle on the Riviersondereind. Interestingly there were a bunch of locals hitting the klippies round a braai who had already nicked the one team’s croc and were beating a poke-slow and ultimately unsuccessful getaway down the river.

For those unfamiliar with paddle craft, there is a loose tradeoff between speed and stability when choosing your steed. You want to be on the fastest thing that you can keep upright, and this was actually both of our first times on an actual river. It was reassuring that we got over the first weir unscathed with teams swimming on both banks. There were sections with hidden sandbanks, twisty routes through papyrus forests, the odd rapid and a few flat open sections. Disaster struck quickly as the right pedal hinge sheered off totally in a tight section and we were swimming. No excuses from me, as I do treat the boat worse than a cheating ex-girlfriend, no such thing as time wasted on maintenance. Just like the competitive male model industry, things are tough if you are not an ambi-turner, and a MacGyver plan was hatched. A strip of duct tape was wound onto the control wire, which was pulled over the right knee. It was uncomfortable, but kinda worked in the easier sections. The paddle had its moments; a few narrow escapes from under tree branches, a mid rapid swamping, and lots of missions into papyrus beds – but somehow we got the turtle to the transition. We weren’t even last, with Uge’s Quinton swearing like a trooper at his boat/team/river behind us.

The awesome side of this little event/sport now showed up. The organizers had transported our bikes and 1 crate of kit to the transition. We gooied the k2 down, kitted up in our bike stuff, had some spagbol and were on our way. Schoolboy error #2 showed us up rather quickly. A waterproof map holder only works if you actually close it, and our route map was a soggy mess that would pass as any homework ‘my dog ate it’ excuse. Luckily we were with two other teams, and with the temperature in the mid 30’s and a stiff 20knot breeze, it made sense to stick together. We caught up with another team at a missing pc which had been swiped by locals. There was a fairly long climb which we came off rather well, stopping for a quick dip in a farm dam to stave off the heat. By now we had pushed into second place and hit the Dirtopia downhill with some vigour. We had another bummer when Davo punctured halfway down, the culprit was a now battered porcupine quill. Good thing he changes flats quicker than Jacob runs to a post-coital shower and we got to the next PC still ahead of the pack. It’s prudent to note now that the leaders had about a 90 minute lead and it was really a race for second. It’s really handy when you throw training, experience and talent into the equation and those boys really mocked us hackers.

Back to the race, we were now facing a big decision, there were two PC’s a hundred meters apart, separated by 30m of river. We got to the first PC clipped, and Davo found another puncture, Stans tubeless really is worth every one of the five hundred bucks you throw at it. I scouted for an easier crossing upstream but returned with another team and looked into wading across. With bike above my head, I turned around once it got to chin level. The other team proceeded to swim their bikes across; not easy (or clever) I thought. By now quite a pile-up had emerged and some bright spark noted that you could swim there and back to your bikes, which we all then did. It involved a bit of Rambo papyrus rushing, and a swim with leadlike mtb shoes on. The last 15km was a real slog into the wind (we passed the bike swimmers, who got a karmic puncture for abusing their bikes) and one had to try not look at the sheer mountain we had to tackle next. We pulled into the transition in second spot to as much cheers as you can get from 10 tired race supporters, and slowly set about getting food and changing. A 40 minute turn around time is not quick, and we let two teams overtake us here. We weren’t overly fussed by this, as we just wanted to finish and our lack of training would really hurt us if we pushed on at this point.

So bellies full and warmed up after scraping a kit inspection (fair enough, it probably did look like we might take all week-end to knock off the remaining leg) we headed up the hill in the falling light. The hike route seemed just as navigationally straightforward as the rest of the race, and sure enough we all took the same route up, up, up and over the mountain and down the other side. We paused for a great sunset. Such a great sunset that it's getting two sentences here, as it just spread over the valley in pinks, purples, oranges and all that's in between. I’d throw in a third, but you had to be there.

It’s probably a good thing it got dark, as it was a long way up. The stat was quoted as 1800m vertical in 16km, not too sure how that works as it was a 22km roundtrip but you don’t need numbers to explain that it was steep and relentless. Sure enough we all took the same route, when actually there was a longer but much easier option. Hindsight is great, we were on the circular Genadendal two day trail; where one route is up and over, the other more around the mountain. We all felt a little silly as Mikey had gone to great lengths to point out a farm that should be avoided on the easier option, but I think it also had a bit to do with the map in two pieces as the flatter option was much harder to conceive. Anyway, lesson learnt (again) that route planning is just as important as overall fitness.

Along the way we crossed a few rivers, and saw plenty of huge insects to keep the mind off the task at hand. We had missed the only junction and actually let two more teams past whilst we backtracked. The team pulling up the rear did the same, but spectacularly bundu’d up the mountain much to the amusement of all watching the roaming headlights from below. Finally we saw the leaders on their way down and could gauge how long the leg would take us. Disappointingly they were running, full of smiles and cheers – ready for another lap. Of course they would be in bed before we returned.

It’s never easy finding a PC in the dark, but this one was a massive rock that appeared out of the blackness, our oasis in the desert, and a welcome sign that we could turn around and go home. The race for second had three teams just 20 minutes ahead of us at this point, but there was no fight left for a chase and that was the last we saw of them. When we eventually pulled into the school at the finish there were a few tired souls around, a cup of coffee and a great muffin to munch on whilst we recollected the last 14 hours of madness.

pretty bushed, its 2am

All in all it was a really good event, well organized by volunteers who do it because they just love the sport. First prize is a T-Shirt and a bottle of wine, awesome! CapeStorm gooied a few prizes in as did Constantia pharmacy. Mike had to do a lot of running around and switching to the course due to the original bike and paddle being logistically washed out two just weeks earlier. I think the only reason why there are 9 and not 30+ teams is that December is just too busy a month, in every other respect it’s an event and club worth supporting. Well done to Owen and Hano for making us all look like amateurs with a three and half hour winning margin.