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Epic 2018: This ain’t no party

Oscar Foulkes March 23, 2018 Cape Epic No comments
When the 2018 Epic route was announced, there must have been widespread rejoice at the 39km of Stage Five. A chorus of “rest day!” was heard in coffee shops around the land (you know, the ones that have so many bikes parked against railings that access is nigh impossible).

Then reality started sinking in. Almost all the 1430m of climbing in the first 28km, with the final dose being delivered by way of the Seven Peaks trail. There’s a cut-off time of slightly over four hours. And don’t forget that it’s coming immediately after roughly 450km over four consecutive days.

Today dawned bright and clear. Neither cloud nor breeze made an appearance to mitigate the effects of late summer sun in the oven that is Wellington. The top riders set off in the relative coolth soon after sunrise. Our start time (9:58) ensured that we would finish at around 1:00, in the heat of the day.

All I did was walk to the start, and sweat was already pouring off me. Riders huddled in scant shade, desperate to remain cool for as long as possible.

We rolled off the start line, pedalling out of the race village at a sedate pace. The brief from Coach Erica was not to ride on heart rate, but rather on ‘feel’ (every day on Epic drops riders’ heart rates a little). The first little climb on tar was hard on the legs, and then we entered farmland. The climbs came thick and fast, with too-brief recovery flats and descents in between. We more-or-less stuck to the plan of keeping it conservative, but many of those ‘testers’ were so steep that effort was required to get up them. I was in too much discomfort to feel gratified that the effort was translating into passing teams that had started ahead of us.

By the time we covered 18km we’d already climbed 900m. In the words of Talking Heads:
This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco
This ain’t no fooling around

I drained two bottles before we hit the water point at 20km. There was temporary respite, and then the climbing started all over again.

Seven Peaks may be one of the most depressing climbs in the Western Cape, because every time you round a corner, thinking that you’ve finally beaten this thing, you see riders on the hillside above. It’s relevant to point out that the chain of riders takes the form of a zig-zag reaching up the mountainside. You just know you’re in for a tough time.

Suffering eventually comes to an end. We reached the top, and then descended via Cool Runnings, eventually getting to the finish roughly three hours after starting.

We continued our pattern of gaining GC positions on every stage. We’re now halfway in the Grand Masters, but I can’t see us getting to halfway on the overall GC.

This week has flown, probably because of the length of stages one to four. Basically, our days have consisted of waking up early, eating breakfast, getting everything ready to start riding, and then riding until early afternoon. Thereafter, it’s a rush to hydrate and eat, drop bikes for wash and service, shower, followed by rest. By this time it’s supper, and bedtime is soon thereafter. Repeat for four days.

Tomorrow and Sunday are cooler days, which is a blessing, because Wellington and Paarl can get really hot. While both days are significantly shorter than stages one to four, we have 2000m of climbing on both days. Knowing how steep the mountains are around here makes me aware of the need to respect what awaits.

Just one of many climbs today (pic: Greg Beadle/Cape Epic)

Just one of many climbs today (pic: Greg Beadle/Cape Epic)

Epic 2018: Hou bene, hou

Oscar Foulkes March 22, 2018 Cape Epic No comments
I wrote yesterday about the spectators along the route. The majority of them have some kind of vested interest in the race, but given the routing through farms and past schools, at various points we also have the wives and children of farm workers. Apart from the kids pleading for “sweeties”, the standard chorus of encouragement is “hou bene, hou.”

The translation is something along the lines of “hold legs, hold” or “last legs, last.”

Legs were top of mind for me last night. Every time I moved in my sleep I could feel my legs complaining about being forced to pedal me around the Cape Epic course. I couldn’t imagine how I was going to get through the Queen Stage.

The first 10km this morning were mostly on the flat, and were done at quite a lick. First we were on a stony gravel road, mostly riding into the wind. Then we were on a tar road, and then back onto gravel, before entering vineyards.

One of the strengths of Piet on a bicycle (there are numerous) is his ability to ride strategically, especially in picking riders to sit behind. The windy conditions made that a necessity, and we got pulled along very nicely.

Once in the vineyards, we started hitting sand patches. Riding through them is also a ‘technical’ skill (although not often on riders’ practice schedules). We managed to negotiate them fairly well, passing many riders in the process.

Erica’s Epic Intervals were designed with the Goudini-Slanghoek section in mind, but I thought they were particularly useful in helping my legs deal with the particular type of pedalling required in sand.

The route deviated into numerous singletrack sections on the mountainsides between Rawsonville and the start of Bain’s Kloof. They were mostly rocky, sandy and unsculpted, resulting in slow progress. A lot of walking was being done.

As expected, the singletrack climb (and descent) starting at Goudini Spa was extremely tough, and also took a long time to get through. There was a welcome water point soon after this, and then the route (once again) took a detour up a gratuitous hill with gnarly terrain. The gnarliness continued until the final waterpoint at the base of Bain’s Kloof, and then the slog started.

Yes, it was on tar, and the gradient isn’t steep, but it seemed to take forever to get to the top. At various points we had a stiff head wind. Eventually we crested (slightly earlier than indicated by the route profile, which must be a first for Cape Epic). Due to head winds, we were having to pedal quite hard to get some speed on the downhill.

About halfway down, we were diverted onto a big gravel descent above Doolhof. Piet graciously let me lead, and in the exhilaration of the descent, I seemed to find my mojo again. It helped that we started overtaking other teams for the first time since starting the Bain’s Kloof climb.

We reached Welvanpas with less than 10km to go, and then had to do some more climbing. With about 5km to go, it seemed all downhill (well, there was a steep descent just ahead of me). At this point, the Tallboy took charge, especially when it spotted another couple of teams just ahead.

Without turning to check with Piet that he was fine with it, I sped up (or, as he put it me at the finish, I behaved like a racehorse that knows it’s headed for home). We passed those riders, and then close to the finish I spotted another few teams ahead. By now, all aches and pains were forgotten; in a completely misdirected and pointless moment of flamboyance I sprinted for 364th position, which is a big improvement on all our stage finishes thus far. Partnership counseling isn’t a premium service currently offered by Cape Epic, but if there were I’d be signing up tonight.

My top tip to average Epic riders (like us) is to start conservatively, and to just ride at a comfortable, steady pace. Thanks to this – and Piet’s strategic riding – we’ve consistently gained positions on every stage since Prologue.

The Time Trial tomorrow will be interesting, and then we have two stages that are more sensible in length.

Hou bene hou!

The route profile.

The route profile.

Epic 2018: Stage Three

Oscar Foulkes March 21, 2018 Cape Epic No comments
No Cape Epic has had successive ‘long’ days like the first four stages of this year’s race. The demands of four days in the vicinity of 110km or further has probably been the main incentive driving riders to ‘do the work’. I know it has been top of mind for me.

Today, being the longest, had a special place in my apprehensions. We rode the stage at an average speed comfortably in excess of 18 km/h. Even at that pace, which for me used to seem like an impossible speed to maintain over long distances, 123km took us six-and-three-quarter hours. That’s a long time to be on a bicycle, regardless of conditions.

Once again, the route designers found all kinds of twists and turns. These, I should add, were mostly detours up the slopes of the Langeberg that line the route. Imagine the mountains representing a wave, and the route as a surfer carving his way up the wave to extend the ride.

Starting at Arabella, just 10km by road from Robertson, we rode about 40km before we could finally say that we were en route to Worcester. There was a similar detour between the final two water points, and then another after the last one.

On the plus side, I discovered parts of the valley of my childhood that I never knew existed. By way of aches and pains, I’m similarly being alerted to parts of my body to which I haven’t given a thought for ages.

The prevailing southerly wind was occasionally a headwind, but it was mostly at our backs, for which we were enormously grateful.

The spectator support all the way along the route has been magnificent. One woman popped up in so many different locations today we thought she might have a twin.

Our own support crew was on the start line this morning, having cooked an extensive dinner for us last night. Perhaps frustrated at our early departure for bed, they apparently ‘made quite a night of it’. Piet and I might have had an easier time getting through the day than some of them, but that didn’t stop them cheering with maximum enthusiasm at various points.

There is a lot of apprehension about tomorrow’s stage. Once that’s behind us we can hopefully all start to relax a bit.

My massage awaits. I hope it doesn’t hurt too much.

We managed to have some fun along the way today as well (thank you for the pic, Amanda).

We managed to have some fun along the way today as well (thank you for the pic, Amanda).

Epic 2018: “Nobody Feels Any Pain”

Oscar Foulkes March 20, 2018 Cape Epic No comments
The theme for our Cape Epic wine list last year was wines from the regions we rode through. This time, the name of the wine has to have the word ‘mountain’ or equivalent in other languages.

Piet is the resident playlist compiler, and assembled an Epic playlist along similar lines. Yes, Ain’t No Mountain High Enough does feature. You get the picture.

So this morning, when I was still motivating myself to get a cup of coffee together, the first lyrics that came out of the speakers were “Nobody feels any pain.” I laughed loudly (laughter at any point on an Epic day is a good thing), thinking that this was Piet’s occasionally off-beat sense of humour making an appearance. It turned out that this wasn’t on the playlist, and we quickly switched over to some banging Foo Fighters and Green Day. Our camper van is not a rock-free zone.

Even if it was inadvertent, there is a message in this. Everyone in the field feels pain, from the leaders to the Hyenas following the stragglers. The point is what one does with the pain. Barring crashes or technicals, getting to the finish requires the ability to overcome pain’s insistence that this activity ends immediately.

Today was a classic Cape Epic stage. It was long and hard, without any ‘free’ kilometres (i.e. the ones on the descent from big climbs). I felt as if I spent the day just grinding away. At about 75km I thought I could allow myself a small feeling of levity. Piet thought so too, posing the question: “How hard can 30km be?” He did the same to a fellow rider with 25km to go.

And then the route planners showed us, in no uncertain terms, just how much extra pain they can throw at Epic riders. For the record, Piet is banned from asking any such questions for the remainder of the week, no matter how rhetorical the intention.

There is a simple bit of science to the effort expended in endurance events, which is that one gets nearer to the finish with every pedal stroke. There was nothing pretty about our performance today. Nor did we have the moments of fun we had on Stage One. So, it was a surprise to find that we’d advanced a few positions in our category (Grand Masters).

We have two more big days to get through before we can feel that we’ve got over the hump, but first there is the small matter of a few glasses of Hartenberg Gravel Hill Shiraz tonight. There are plenty of mountain references there!

Reuben van Niekerk has completed four Cape Epics on a prosthetic leg. We briefly caught up to him in the Bosvark section, while Bob Dylan's lyrics were on repeat in my head. What an inspiration he is!

Reuben van Niekerk has completed four Cape Epics on a prosthetic leg. We briefly caught up to him in the Bosvark section, while Bob Dylan’s lyrics were on repeat in my head. What an inspiration he is!

Epic 2018: Taking the Tallboy line

Oscar Foulkes March 19, 2018 Cape Epic No comments
There are all kinds of issues related to riding 110km Cape Epic stages. From the perspective of this daily update, however, the major consideration is that getting in after 2.30pm doesn’t leave a lot of time for penning something worthwhile. I’ll leave the rest of the issues to your imagination.

I’m going to start with the obvious, given that the race village at Arabella occupies the Normandy Stud paddocks in which Sergeant Hardy frolicked as a foal. For those of you new to the story, Sergeant Hardy is the breathing impaired horse I race in partnership with my mother. On Sun Met day, he beat the best sprinters in the country, and was last week included in the Longines-sponsored list of The World’s Best Racehorses. Our Epic kit is inspired by my mother’s racing colours (worn by the jockey when Sergeant Hardy races). The Hoarse Power printed on our cycling shorts ties together my own breathing issues and medical history with that of Sergeant Hardy (although unlike me, he is a proper athlete).

Nostalgia made further appearances this morning, when we cycled through Excelsior, which is where I spent a big chunk of my childhood. And later we rode through Piet’s brother’s farm, Steenboksvlakte.

Today’s stage started at quite a pace – we ticked off the first 15km in 30 minutes, and the pace stayed pretty steady until we hit the first big climb. The Land Rover technical zone was the descent from this climb. As we entered it, there was a group of riders ahead of us. Getting past them required the application of what I call The Tallboy Line (with apologies to golfers who make use of The Tiger Line). In case you hadn’t guessed, this required some off-piste cycling over terrain that would generally be avoided. Unless you’re riding a Santa Cruz Tallboy, of course.

Once we got past these riders, it was pretty much full gas over some pretty gnarly terrain. Such fun!

A bit later, we were able to repeat the exercise from the top of the Skuilkrans climb, passing something like 20 teams in the process. Again, this required regular use of The Tallboy Line, on the rockiest, steepest, off-camber parts of the track. There doesn’t seem to be a segment for this on Strava. I did promise that ego would not make an appearance today, but it would have been interesting to see how us schleppers at the rear of the field stacked up against the more talented riders in groups ahead.

I did a blog post when researching bikes for Epic (click here to read it). Given my breathing difficulties, I was more concerned about having a bike that made up for my breathing (along the lines of an Iron Lung). I’ve learnt that being assisted in descending quickly can be as valuable. And, even if it doesn’t translate into a shorter time out on the road, letting rip on the Tallboy is a huge amount of fun.

We ended the day comfortably within our budget of seven hours (with about 20 minutes to spare). Three long days await, so this afternoon we’re deep into recovery mode.

Sergeant Hardy returns to the winner's enclosure after the Cape Flying Championship

Sergeant Hardy returns to the winner’s enclosure after the Cape Flying Championship

Epic 2018: Rob Beffa & The Needles

Oscar Foulkes March 18, 2018 Cape Epic No comments
It was a huge relief to be able to push off the start line today, because 10 days ago it didn’t feel as if my body wasn’t going to come to the party. Rob Beffa is a miracle worker with his needles (could there be a band name in that?).

The Prologue course followed routes that I have ridden hundreds of times. It’s literally my back yard. If I’d been racing for a podium finish it might have been an advantage, but of course I’m not. We’re just regular middle-aged men in lycra just trying to get to the end of Cape Epic in one piece, with medals hanging from our necks, a picture to put on the wall, and a story to tell our grandchildren.

It is therefore beyond me how my nervous system decided to dial my heart rate up to maximum today. Believe me, barring getting off the bike to relax under a tree for ten minutes, I tried everything to get it down. I pedalled gently up hills, I relaxed on the downhills, and for good measure I even chatted to Piet. The nett result was an average of 165 beats per minute, with a maximum of 184.

These are trails I know like the back of my hand, and I was hoping that my local’s knowledge would enable me to take advantage of planning for the recovery portions of climbs. All to no avail.

The one positive is that at no stage did my legs feel as if I was in the red. This was all about heart rate. I hope today’s revving heart rate doesn’t come back to bite me in future stages.

The high point of the day was the climb to the Big Tree, where a cacophony of cowbells and cheers energised us. It was probably one of the high points of my Epic experience thus far (and that includes all of 2017’s Epic).

The toughest climb of the day was one that the race organisers have euphemistically called Quarry Climb. Locals call it Motherfucker for good reason. Don’t be fooled by the soft-soaped version. This is proper.

We’ll be starting Stage One near the back of the field, which is a good place to be for the first few stages because there’s less chance of a rush of ego pushing one to ride too hard early on.

Unlike my race day heart rate, the ego dial is controlled by my brain. Four consecutive stages in excess of 110km are good reason to keep a lid on things!

This is not the heart rate of someone actively trying to take it easy ... with this level of apparent effort I should have ridden the Prologue 10 minutes faster!

This is not the heart rate of someone actively trying to take it easy … with this level of apparent effort I should have ridden the Prologue 10 minutes faster!

Epic 2018: Flirting with disappointment

Oscar Foulkes March 11, 2018 Cape Epic No comments
I ended last week’s training report with a comment about getting bike and body to the start of Cape Epic in good mechanical working order. The body reference came about because I’d been battling discomfort/pain in lower back and right hip, which I assumed would get fixed by a visit to Rob Beffa, along with a follow-up massage.

I did, indeed, feel much better on Tuesday night. The relief of having ease of movement was immense.

On Wednesday, Piet and I rode the Prologue route with Jeroen Hirdes, who had arrived from Amsterdam that morning to start his acclimatisation for Cape Epic. I stopped a few times to stretch my lower back, which was a concern.

I had a follow up appointment with Rob on Friday afternoon, by which point I had major doubts about even getting to the start line. Any movement was seriously uncomfortable.

He needled many muscles in my right leg, all the way up to the glute area, after which I had another massage. By the evening, I wasn’t feeling much better. Depression grew, almost to the point of tears at the thought that the hundreds of hours of preparation and training were about to be flushed down the tubes (metaphorically, of course, because there’s no water to flush anything in Cape Town at the moment).

I called off riding the Cape Town Cycle Tour, and lined up an easy ride on the road for Saturday morning, which did wonders for my mood – it was great to be out with the guys. I felt fine on the bike, as long as I didn’t ride the hills too hard. The main thing, though, was that it left me with the sense of possibility. Hope replaced despair.

I’m feeling less discomfort today (Sunday). I’m seeing Rob again tomorrow, and am confident that I am finally on the road to recovery.

The final five weeks of my Cape Epic preparation are feeling quite disjointed in comparison with the tempo of the months that led up to Tankwa Trek. The two weeks immediately after Tankwa involved a few easy recovery rides, along with additional rest days. With me carrying this injury, the past two weeks have also involved less volume or intensity than programmed. The final week before Epic will be easy, so I’m certainly not going into the event overdone. If anything, I’m going to be slightly below peak, which is better than the alternative.

If you’re planning on watching any of the stages, the Cape Epic Ride Guide is a great resource (click the image above to download it). In addition to the suggested spectator points for the Prologue route, I’d add Deer Park. It is likely to be less congested than other spots, there’s parking close by, and there’s a climb (riders will be going slower, so you have the opportunity of actually seeing the riders you’re supporting, rather than just having them flash past).

If you’re planning on watching any of the stages, the Cape Epic Ride Guide is a great resource (click the image above to download it). In addition to the suggested spectator points for the Prologue route, I’d add Deer Park. It is likely to be less congested than other spots, there’s parking close by, and there’s a climb (riders will be going slower, so you have the opportunity of actually seeing the riders you’re supporting, rather than just having them flash past).

Epic 2018: A fortnight away

Oscar Foulkes March 4, 2018 Cape Epic No comments
Over the past 20 years, I’ve been on a fairly regular cycle of seeing chiropractors three or four times a year, most often to sort out misalignment in my hips, which leads to lower back pain and ultimately headaches. This changed about three years ago, when Rob Beffa suggested I do complementary exercises.

Before I get to the detail of that, I should mention that Rob is not your regular vertebrae-crunching chiropractor. He takes a holistic view, and doesn’t start an adjustment without first releasing muscles, with needling being his go-to technique. The relief is monumental.

At the rear of Rob’s practice is a ‘gym’ area informally referred to as The Gunshow, where Derek Rau and Michael Watson guide their clients (some of them high-profile endurance athletes) through a series of exercises aimed at improving mobility, as well as a variety of strength-building exercises (core, upper body and legs). In the time that I’ve worked with Derek the frequency of my visits to Rob has dropped dramatically.

My time slot with Derek coincides with Michael (aka Miguel) training Mark ‘Zone’ Pienaar and his Epic partner, Oli Munnik. Contrary to the phrasing of the preceding sentence, Mark is not the reason for Oli’s claim to mountain biking fame, as you’ll discover by reading their Cape Epic team profile. There’s plenty of banter, much of which is mountain biking chatter. The Gunshow sessions are good for my body, but they’re also great at getting me into the right headspace for Epic. These guys are a big chunk of my Cape Epic journey.

Rob and crew are top of mind today, because I’ve been battling painfully stiff hips all week (don’t blame Derek – this is more work stress induced than the product of exercise). I soldiered through yesterday’s ride, but I’ve decided against even an easy spin on the road today. Rob’s needles are calling, followed by a massage on Tuesday.

I had the last of my proper Wattbike intervals on Tuesday this week, with five by seven minutes in zone five, and then Thursday’s easy ride fell prey to work demands.

On Saturday, I met up with the Daisyway gang for a look at some of the Wellington routes. The ride comprised the big climb on the final stage, followed by the main climb on the Time Trail route.

I was a bit apprehensive about Beulah (whenever there’s concrete on a mountain road it generally indicates extreme steepness). I’m happy to report that while Beulah is not an insignificant climb, the reason for the concrete is that the terrain is decomposed granite, which is very prone to erosion. It’s less steep than I expected. Plus, the concrete provides a nice surface for spinning to the top.

Directly after Beulah one begins the Hawequas climb, which basically goes straight up the mountain to just below Du Toitskloof pass. Yesterday we had the added challenge of a headwind blowing straight down the mountain. The final stage is not going to be any kind of gimme!

After this big climb we dropped into the time trial course, and basically started climbing all over again, except that we were no longer fresh. The Seven Peaks climb in the middle of the time trial is big and challenging. I understand that the cut-off is going to be double the time of the winning time for the stage. Four hours might seem like a lot of time for 39km, but given the terrain, for many riders this isn’t going to be a relaxed spin.

The work is all done. Now it’s just a case of ensuring that bike and body arrive at the start line in good mechanical working order.

When I was a kid in boarding school, on weekends that we were allowed out, the trips to and from Cape Town went over Du Toitskloof pass (until the tunnel was built, of course). There was a ‘bigness’ to the pass, accentuated by me being a child, and the journey being so arduous. It didn’t occur to me that 40 years hence I’d ascend to the highest point by bicycle - off-road - via a route much steeper than the one followed by the pass. And, for good measure, that I’d be embarking on a bike ride that would take me from Robertson to Paarl, doing a long route replication of what those back to school trips entailed, as I’ll be doing in two weeks’ time.

When I was a kid in boarding school, on weekends that we were allowed out, the trips to and from Cape Town went over Du Toitskloof pass (until the tunnel was built, of course).
There was a ‘bigness’ to the pass, accentuated by me being a child, and the journey being so arduous. It didn’t occur to me that 40 years hence I’d ascend to the highest point by bicycle – off-road – via a route much steeper than the one followed by the pass. And, for good measure, that I’d be embarking on a bike ride that would take me from Robertson to Paarl, doing a long route replication of what those back to school trips entailed, as I’ll be doing in two weeks’ time.

Epic 2018: Coached, not trained

Oscar Foulkes February 26, 2018 Cape Epic 1 comment
Last week, my son’s school hosted an information evening for parents of the Matric class. Two numbers jumped out at me. Firstly, that there are just 108 teaching days in 2018 (of which 25% have already been expended). Secondly, from the time they start writing mock exams, they are in permanent exam mode for 80 days.

This strikes me as being a lot of time being spent in limbo. Or, to put it more charitably, a lot of time without the directed structure of them learning new material. This is feeling very familiar to me at the moment, as my Cape Epic training programme enters its final few weeks. In terms of both volume and intensity, the workload has dropped considerably.

The bottom line is that I can’t look to training rides to provide affirmation that I am getting either stronger or fitter. I just have to trust in the seven-month process laid out by Erica’s training programme.

Racehorse trainers refer to horses that are having a small break in training as being on the “easy list”, which is where I’ve been for most of the time since Tankwa Trek. However, I was back on the Wattbike on Thursday for some LT intervals. LT is the acronym for ‘lactate threshold’, and these intervals involved five sets of six minutes in zone 5, with three minutes of recovery in between. I felt as fine as one can feel after an intense Wattbike session.

On Saturday, I was down for 100km on the road. Piet was away in Knysna riding the Knysna Bull, so I did a solo spin to Simon’s Town, which ended up being just over 94km. Once again, I felt fine and on track.

I was back on the mountain on Sunday, for 70km “on a hilly route”. There was a strong south-easter blowing, so I made my way around to Newlands and then followed the usual Kirstenbosch-Constantia route to Tokai. The only problem was that I felt extremely flat. I hadn’t had a late night on Saturday, nor could I point to any particular cause, so it was a bit disconcerting to not be frisky after having had a period of less intense training. It was still very windy when I got back to the City Bowl, and with my legs out of gas, I called it at 55km.

As if Erica doesn’t have enough other athletes’ issues to deal with, she then received a panic WhatsApp from me. This is likely to come down to psychology more than power to weight ratios, and Erica is brilliant at both.

Piet spent the weekend charging around the Knysna Bull course, apparently in the form of his life. My work is going to be cut out for me between 18 and 25 March!

Erica Green, coach extraordinaire (pic: Erica Green)

Erica Green, coach extraordinaire (pic: Erica Green)

Epic 2018: Paddock time

Oscar Foulkes February 19, 2018 Cape Epic No comments
During the week I was sent a little video of Sergeant Hardy in the paddock at the Snaiths’ farm. After three races in five weeks he earned the break from full training! Interestingly, his ‘paddock buddy’ is Copper Force, which nearly beat Legal Eagle in the L’Ormarins Queen’s Plate.

This week I also received my training schedule leading up to Cape Epic. Apart from the fact that I need to recover from Tankwa Trek, Erica thought she saw indications of fatigue in my Wattbike stats. Admittedly, I may have recovered from some of this in the extended taper leading up to Tankwa Trek, but she’s taking no chances. As she put it to me, “rather a week off now, than in two weeks’ time.” In a sense, I’m having my own version of ‘paddock time’.

I didn’t expect to feel fresh on my gentle Wednesday morning pedal, but I knew that I needed to get it out of the way.

I was supposed to do an easy 70km on the road on Saturday. Instead, I spent just about the entire day on the road, except that I was driving from one chore to the next.

I met up with Piet for Sunday’s 80km on the road. We rode from Camps Bay, setting off at quite a pace. On the approach to Llandudno I realised that my heart rate was way too high for the type of ride intended. While I backed off, Piet chased down an ebike (ever the wheel chaser!). I managed to keep it sensible going up Chapman’s Peak, but allowed myself to get a little carried away on Black Hill. I pushed a few watts as my heart rate peaked at 172 bpm.

At the bottom of Black Hill, we turned left on Main Road, taking advantage of road closures for the Peninsula Marathon. I was intrigued to see the runner carrying the flag for sub-5:00 running solo. Had he out-run his bus, or had they out-run him? Or was no-one interested in running sub-5:00?

Later we passed a group of riders on Coco-Mat bikes. The collective noun for a group of cyclists is a peloton. If they are riding on wooden bikes (as these were), does it become a grove? Orchard, I’m assuming, would only apply if the wood used for the bike construction came from a fruit-bearing tree.

We completed just over 78km in exactly three hours, which qualifies as recovery pace.

With four weeks to Epic, my attention now turns to the wine list (you can read about our 2017 wine list here). Given that we’re doing a mountain bike race, the theme for this year’s list is wineries (or wines) with mountain/berg in the name. Mont would be the French equivalent (not be confused with mons, although the two words have similar etymology). We’re taking a broad view on this one, allowing words denoting parts of mountains, like Côte (slope).

If the temperatures in 2018 are anything like 2017, wine from Côte Rôtie (roasted slope) would be entirely appropriate!

We passed a group of these wooden bikes on Sunday (would that be a grove of them?)

We passed a group of these wooden bikes on Sunday (would that be a grove of them?)