THE CAPE EPIC
The 2014 edition of Cape Epic is now
underway. Inspired by the Facebook updates of one of this year’s participants, Nigel
Adcock, one of my Indian Ocean Adventure racing mates, I now feel the urge
to upload this blog, which I drafted, but did not complete, after my own
adventures there back in 2012, with Nigel Wake. Didn't know how to blog then. Still not too sure now. Hence the outdated, irrelevant Kona headline.
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| Nigel Adcock (left) about to start the 2014 Cape Epic with South African partner Mark Oliver |
At the time Nigel (Adcock) and Pete Gill
also uploaded a couple of posts re the 2012 Epic, which were entertaining and
witty, so I thought mine would be a poor imitation. However, after my recent
Ironman postings through 2013, I thought I might as well just add this to my
blog collection regardless.
A problem then, as now, is how can you
describe the Cape Epic and really do it justice. Sadly, the best I could come
up with was to describe every aspect of the event, as indeed, truly . . . erm .
. . Epic! Never has anything been more appropriately named.
Obviously, I need professional help, so will shamelessly plagiarise the award winning South African sports writer, and 2012
competitor, Kevin McClean, who blogged: “There are no words. There is no
reason, no rhyme, nor sense to be made of the maelstrom that is my head as I
write this. I’m still struggling to take it in. But there is an acronym that
works: WTF.”
For those who don’t know, the Cape Epic is
an 8-day mountain bike race held in South Africa’s Western Cape region. It is
regarded by many, including the winners of the multi-day stage races, the Crocodile
Trophy and the Trans-Alp, as the toughest mountain bike stage-race on the calendar.
There are only 4 UCI races rated HC (Hors Category – beyond categorization). They
are: the Tour de Fance, the Giro, the Vuelta, and yes, the Cape Epic. Of those,
the Epic is the only one “normal” people can enter – if you are lucky – as the Epic
is even more difficult to enter than the most popular Ironman events, not
counting Kona of course. It is on Lance Armstrong’s list of iconic endurance
events, with Kona, and amongst the reasons he is desperate to reduce his
life-time ban.
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| Tent city. Would Lance stay in these, or a luxury motorhome? F1 Champion, Alain Prost roughed it with the rest of us. |
Most of the stages are between 100-150km.
That does not seem so far, until you consider the average speed off-road is
generally less than half of what you would normally average on the road. Translating
those distances equates around 250-300 road kilometres daily.
For those who have done the Cape to Cape,
in south-west WA, imagine doing three (or 4) of those stages in one day, every
day, for a week, on more challenging terrain, and then throw in an extra
several thousand metres of climbing.
To further compound this overwhelming
challenge, the first couple of days saw temperatures shift from one extreme to
the other: the mid 40sC for the first couple of days, followed by cold, wet
weather 3 days later which had the medics at full stretch treating the
hypothermia cases.
The event is competed as a team of two. To
be awarded your finisher’s medal you must stay with your partner at all times. I was fortunate to be asked, by Nigel Wake, a
North Coast Tri Club foundation member, to be his partner for the race.
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| Nigel Wake and I about to leave the very top of Oz and cross Cape York peninsula, to Normanton. There, after "just" 1,500km I left Nigel to complete the remaining 4,000km back to Perth, solo. This confirmed our compatibility to take on the Cape Epic. |
Since packing in triathlon Nigel has had a
few truly epic adventures, of his own, including cycling from Perth to London,
taking many months; and even more demanding, cycling more than 5,000km across
the dirt roads, tracks and deserts of northern Australia from Cape York, to
Perth, via Australia’s most westerly point, Steep Point. Both journeys were
unsupported.
CHALLENGING STAGES
Yet, despite Nigel’s mammoth rides in the
past, and the wide variety of challenges and hardships along the way, including
frozen desert plateaus, hot deserts, the Himalayas, etc, Nigel declared, at the
end of a particularly demanding and traumatic stage 3 (150km with more than
3,000 metres of climbing, which took over 11 hours to complete), this was now
his worst day on a bike – ever!
Stage 4 should have been (relatively) easy.
Unfortunately, the weather gods thought we were getting it too easy, so they
turned on a 60kph block headwind. The last 30kms became a major challenge, not
helped by a puncture, as we chased the daily cut-off time. Nigel’s post-stage assessment:
a new worst day on a bike - ever!
Until stage 5. This is when it got particularly
uncomfortable and demanding. We woke up to cold, heavy rain, and were faced
with a day of incessant mud and borderline hypothermia - a long, hard,
relentless 10 hour, 59 minute slog. After a very stressful last few hours we
beat the cut-off by less than one-minute. As the camaraderie builds through the
event, it was sad to witness that many of the people we had been riding with
earlier in the day did not meet the deadline, and those finishing just a few
minutes after us, eliminated. Brutal!
Our new camp, which would normally be
thought of as being situated in paradise, was now, on this most miserable of
days, a cold, inhospitable, wet, mud-bath – and that was inside the tents.
Due to the conditions, Shimano’s share
price rocketed during this stage, as 10s of thousands of dollars worth of
competitor’s high-end group-sets were now ground to oblivion by the mud. Very
few had working brakes, many replacing pads out on course. Severe chain suck
was also par for the day, which resulted in quite a few broken rear
derailleurs. I was forced to spend most of the stage in the big ring, not ideal
with well over 2000m of climbing. After the stage I needed to get a new chain,
brake pads, rear cluster and front chain rings. So did hundreds of others. I
eventually found someone who had the spares, and time, to fix my bike at 10.30p.m.
By 11.30p.m., I managed to borrow a credit card that worked. My bike was
eventually fixed just after 1a.m. Not good, considering the camp was awakened
each morning at 5a.m. by a Scottish piper. And still a couple of stages to go –
including the longest, highest climb of the race.
A STUNNING EVENT
So, was it really that hard? Well, there were many challenges along the
way, the inevitable emotional highs and lows, and moments of despair, stress and
extreme discomfort. Overall though, it was an exceptional privilege to be able
to participate in such a magnificent environment, and share this experience
with Nigel.
For me, being slightly fitter than my
partner, who did not have the opportunity, or time, to reach the levels of
fitness he is capable, made it easier, as I could ride for most of the day
below threshold. I imagine it would be a nightmare to feel obliged to push
yourself so hard for a week in order to keep up with a stronger, more
competitive, team-mate.
Over the 8-days we commented that it felt like
we could have been riding the most scenic of Europe’s high mountain regions, at
other times it was reminiscent of the northern English National Parks.
Elsewhere we could have been in the Kimberly or Cape York. Some of the single
track was straight out of the SW of WA. Yet all was within the unique,
magnificent landscape of South Africa’s Western Cape region.
The camp locations and scenery along the
way were stunning. The support, and good will, from the marshals, volunteers,
everyone at the camp, and the locals from the rural townships was amazing. In
fact the townships turned out to be a surprising highlight of the event.
The food, both at the camps, and at the
three service stops each day was plentiful, varied and of good quality. The
camaraderie that builds over several days was also such a special feature,
amongst the 48 nationalities that entered that year.
Having been fortunate enough to compete in
a number of big events around the world, in a variety of different sports, including
Kona, and an event even more demanding than that – the Australian Safari (an
8-day motor-sport desert race) I have to say that the Cape Epic, despite its
logistical challenges, is unquestionably, the most impressively organised event
I have ever done, and would recommend it to anyone of reasonable fitness,
mental strength and decent riding skills. Most normal people would probably consider
it expensive, however for those who have paid WTC Ironman entry fees the Epic
is an absolute bargain.
RACE PREPARATION?
Those of you who know me, and my somewhat
less than dedicated approach to training for events, will not be surprised to
hear that I did not prepare specifically for this race. Apart from spending 4
days on the Munda Bidi trail about a month before going to South Africa, since
the Cape to Cape in October, 2011, you could count the number of times I rode my
MTB on one hand.
Having said that, I believe I was better
prepared for this event than any of the other things I have done – not so much
through specific training, but by doing something significant every couple of
months or so leading up to it, since the previous August. Also helpful is that
on the 3 regular training rides I do each week I am in good company with guys
who win local and national road races and time trials, so my base fitness for
cycling is usually respectable.
Between August 2011 and the Epic in March,
2012, I competed in the Collie Donnybrook road race (7th); UCI World
age-group road race in Belgium; the Collie Adventure race; the Yorkshire 3
Peaks cyclo-cross; I managed 28km of stage 1 in the Cape to Cape before
crashing out and leaving the event in an ambulance; then there was the
Bussleton Ironman in December and the Darlington Half Marathon in earlier in March.
This is in contrast to my race partner
Nigel, who, in the previous 10 months completed the SW of WA Cape to Cape on
foot, then the demanding Coast to Coast walk across the hills of northern
England, and then the Cape to Cape MTB in October. Unfortunately, he then had
to undergo a hernia operation in November.
Inevitably, this had a serious impact on his preparation. His training
could not start in earnest until the end of January. This explains why, physically,
and psychologically it was quite a bit more of a challenge for Nigel than me. It
could also be said that he is no spring chicken. But then again, neither am I.
In fact our combined age for the event was 105!
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| Stunning drive south of Cape Town |
Cape Town
The fantastic organization
The volunteers, marshals, staff, etc,
everywhere
The magnificent scenery and camp locations
The variety of the route: some technical,
single track and a nice variety of stunning, scenic open trails
The massive challenge, tough but achievable
Cruising in an open-top Mini Cooper S down
one of the most scenic drives I have ever done, from Cape Town to the Cape of
Good Hope
SADDLE-SORE?
My main concern pre-event was the
inevitability of getting a chaffed backside. Previously, my long rides, or multi-day rides have been affected by a bad case
of nappy rash, resulting in something
akin to the arse of a baboon. I even had a picture of a baboon’s rear end to
post on FB after day 3 or 4, to illustrate my anticipated suffering.
Miraculously, however, considering I have never ridden all day, every day, for
so many days I got zero chaffing, or saddle discomfort at all. Amazing!
The solution can be attributed to a
combination of: Giordana bib shorts, plenty of Assos arse cream, and the Fizik
Gobi saddle.
AGAIN?
So, would we do it again? Nigel was
absolutely adamant that the box was ticked and he could not think of a reason on
earth why he would ever subject himself to such an ordeal again. This was
re-enforced several times.
I would love to do it again, but without
the back pain which is becoming a constant companion whenever I ride my
mountain bike – the legacy of a motorbike racing (speedway) accident in 1983.
The post-script here is that I received a
phone call, just two weeks after getting home. Can you guess who was asking if
I wanted to do the Cape Epic with him again the following year? My answer (to
be honest it was Julie’s) was thanks but no thanks.
(Editor’s note: Julie has just proof-read
this and insisted that she would not stop me doing stuff and never said that.
To be honest, she did not actually say that. She didn’t have to. The “look”
said it all).
Nigel did indeed return in 2013, much
fitter, and with a new partner, North Coast Triathlete, Geoff Todd. Sadly,
Nigel crashed out on day 4. He wanted to continue, but was forced to seek
off-site medical help by the officials, after knocking himself out and injuring
his shoulder.
I recently got a phone call from Nigel. I
assumed it was not to go for a coffee at Mullaloo. I was right. “How do you fancy
riding your mountain bike across Mongolia in 2015?”
I like the idea, but not too sure I am up
for the reality. Actually, I am already otherwise committed, to compete in the
Irondistance Roth race in Germany, in July, 2015.
Anyway, back to 2014, and I wish the very
best of luck to the other Nigel – Nigel Adcock, who is currently in South
Africa competing in the 2014 Cape Epic.
Have a look on line – it is a tremendous
event and well worth a Google!
