Record Ride Musings #4

“Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light…”

There may still be a chance of rain. The few drops that splattered my visor this morning, had failed to convert into the deluge that looked so probable. I’m riding up high over the escarpment, having finally caught up and passed them. The lightning is flashing far off to the right and down below me. It feels surreal against the night sky. I’m loving this.

I had stopped at the highest point on the route, a few km’s back and set up some rechargeable lights which I mounted on my tripod. With this extended to its maximum height, the lighting effect was reasonable. Another light was placed on the damp gravel road pointing away from them, facing their direction of travel. My headlamp acted as a spotlight. My cell phone was fitted on the gimbal. I used this camera arrangement as it would be the most stable footage that I could get. The lack of light made auto focusing a tad tricky on the bridge camera. So not a practical option. It seemed an awful nuisance to put myself through, just to get a few seconds of night time footage, but I felt I had to.

I could see their approaching lights darting from side to side, long before they finally reached me. They stopped and we shot the breeze for a short while. This was the most wearisome that I’d seen them and they hadn’t yet hit the worst part of the early morning witching hours. The fact that they had passed the highest point seemed to cheer them up a bit. If only they knew what still lay ahead. I didn’t have the heart to warn them.

Where are they? I should’ve caught them by now. I’m sure that they’ve wrong slotted, although for the life of me, I can’t imagine where? After I had stowed away all the gear I set off after them. I wasn’t dawdling. After riding for 15 minutes, they were still nowhere in sight. This part of the route was both fast and washed out in places. It was dangerous and the risk of having an accident, was very real. Add to that, some exhaustion and you have a recipe for disaster. I looked for the trails cast by their bicycle lights, but nothing.

Eventually, just before the Rassie T-junction I saw the tell tail signs of life. What a relief! I passed them offering up a wave and decided to move on to Picasso’s in Vryheid. Hopefully, we could all avoid the rain. They were holding nothing back and there were steep and treacherous descents ahead. I’d rather not know. I’d wait for them at the 24hr restaurant, hoping to hear nothing until I see them. No news being of the preferred variety.

I was gushing and a little over exuberant when they finally rolled into the BP fuel station in Vryheid, at 01h35. Their fan club soon swelled to 3. The intoxicated beardo looking hippie, with the long permed hair, his more intoxicated teenage looking girlfriend and I. We were all very impressed. How could we not be? But those dark hours, that they so dreaded, had now to be negotiated.

The question was purely rhetorical, of course. He had clearly been mulling it over for a while and now after more than a day’s non-stop pedalling, was satisfied that the answer was strikingly obvious.

“Why do we do this?” he asked. “Perhaps, it’s in order to impress our mates? That would make us shallow.”

Mike made a good point. We seldom attempt a challenge of this magnitude, purely, as a test of ourselves. You know, you don’t climb Everest and not tell anyone? We need affirmation. It’s nice to be recognized for a job well done, nice to show-off a little. But it also inspires. Shallow has its place.

The Wimpy in Ulundi, was the least impressive Wimpy, that I have ever had the good fortune of patronizing. More a mining town mesh hall, than one of South Africa’s perennial favourite travel stopovers. I felt hot and stuffy and the aircon unit was either faulty or wholly incapable of servicing the large open plan area. It didn’t appear to concern Mike in the least. He seemed to have gotten his second wind. He was quite gregarious and floated from one subject to the next with consummate ease. I listened with interest and contributed best I could. I glanced over at Merak. A quiet, reserved chap, but like Mike, fiercely determined. Both of them were unpanicked and appeared to have oodles of time. The stopwatch pressure seemed to have no effect on them. They spoke of fatigue, but it seemed non-existent. Eating appeared to be a chore devoid of enjoyment, but other than that there was no outward appearance of any discomfort. As a riding partnership, they seemed perfectly matched and it showed in their progress. They were courteous to the waitress, despite her being a little tardy.

I felt fortunate to be there and to experience it all. To see how they went about their business. It’s not often that you’re allowed to move freely on centre court, whilst the Wimbledon final is underway.

A good while later, I deployed my tripod and camera on a hillock, with a good view of the service road and railway line. No approaching cyclist would escape my gaze.  I found myself amongst the urban sprawl and was soon noticed by the village children. Very curios they are and when the Zulu Question and Answer session didn’t go according to plan, they resorted to pointing and eventually, with growing confidence, pawing at my photographic equipment. In a desperate attempt at distraction, I offered them a free-gratis-and-for-nothing photo shoot. It seems family bonds are strong in these parts and a photo op is not to be missed by cousins, even as far as 3 valleys down. The nett result was that with all the yodelling and ensuing confusion, I became distracted and almost missed M&M.

By pure coincidence, they had a mechanical issue, on the crest of the very hill where I was hoping they would first come into view. It was like it had been planned. The gusting wind was buffeting my tripod and camera about a bit, but I could just make out that they were having problems with Mike’s tyre.

They had had more than their fair share of mechanical issues up to this point. A side wall cut was the latest and could easily have proven terminal. Being blessed with mechanical ingenuity is priceless in this kind of situation. Repairs of this nature are seldom straight forward and often require thinking out of the box. They dealt with the problem in relatively short order. Good. I watched them through the bobbing view finder. Hold on a second. Let’s have another swig of Coke. The signs are there. This is what you do when exhaustion settles in.