Teresa Coetzee is a lifestyle journalist for the Afrikaans newspaper Beeld and is currently taking part in the Old Mutual joBerg2c mountain bike race. She shares her experiences with us after the fifth day of the event.
One of the inescapable realities of multistage mountain biking is that things happen to riders over which they have no control.
For months you train, save money and look forward to an event like the Old Mutual joBerg2c.
And, when the day finally arrives, everyone is full of expectations. The reality is however that you can pick up many unplanned troubles along the way that could prove to be that proverbial fly in the ointment – mechanicals, bad falls and tummy bugs come to mind.
This week, the dreaded stomach bug paid me a visit. So much so that there were moments this morning that I thought I would not be able to ride today’s stage.
At the medics, the “patients” lay in rows under blankets and on drips, for a variety of ailments, like one would expect from a war zone. Fortunately, I was luckier than some these people and I was eventually able to mount my steed.
The course was from Winterton to Kamberg and, like I have become accustomed to, the jokes and witticisms started early on. The topic is usually the state of everyone’s legs and buttocks – which, in most cases, are questionable.
My most vivid memory from today was how the landscape suddenly changed around us. One moment we were in the bush and the next (when I was able to look around me) I was surrounded by mountains.
The most beautiful vistas greeted us and, sometimes when I felt I could not carry on, I just looked around me and found strength from the environment.
One of the most beautiful places today was the Zulu Waters Nature Reserve and, although the climbs seemingly had no end, the valley below was fabulously beautiful.
The highlight was definitely the guys with the bagpipes who awaited us about a kilometre from our destination at Glengarry farm, just outside Kamberg. Lulu noted that she thought it was her funeral, because at that time we both thought our last hour had come.
Every time we arrived at the tented town, I am amazed at how smooth this great machine runs.
Our race village at Glengarry was beautiful; our tent was next to a river in the midst of a large plantation. And it was just too cute when two little boys offered to carry our bags.
And then we signed off the day with a meal (offered by our host Clifton school) that won’t easily be forgotten.
Onwards and upwards.
Click here to read Teresa’s blog after day four.
