I’ve been plotting to do this Sellenbosch cult event for years but never got the stars aligned, and thought this year would be the same fate until Triple Challenge was pushed on a week. It’s the official World Championships of Stellenbosch, and settles the ranking system for the next annum – from pride to ridicule. All in good humour, but the build up of speculation and weight loss in town amongst the affectionate “decknekke” (thick necks, ie, heavy weights) is quite something.
The weekend and riding did not disappoint, as its a similar Imana Wild Ride feel in that the ratio of riding to shooting the breeze is balanced. The Stellenbosch group, now on their 13th year, has it dialed. They sleep closest to the truck which commutes the pile of bags, tents and cooler boxes over the mountain at slower speed than our riding, they also sleep closest to the drop of point of the truck in the Hell, in the best of camping sections, reserved for them. I think the group was larger than 30pax and chief in charge was Paulus, who allowed Michal and I to sponge and sneak into the dorm and hallowed camp area. Cheers mate.
Getting there, a 4.5hour drive from The Bosch, was split at Ronnie’s Sex Shop, a colourful iconic bar along Route 62, a must do drive for every South African and hopefully increasing tourist traffic too. The amount of shit talking reached a climax on Ronnie’s roof, before it turned to race face at De Hoek. Good laughs.
The race itself was more tough than expected with endless climbing. Was real curious to assess form after riding so strictly aerobically for the past 2months. In fact, on the bike, had not taken my HR over 135bpm once in 8weeks. I did struggle with the initial surges up the Swartberg Pass, and especially with the aggression near the summit, but as the ride lengthened, I felt more in my comfort zone. And legs we even better on the way out, really feeling good on the pedals. So was really excited at that show of progress as foundation to build on form here.
But the riding really was just an excuse, to see the views, and enter this remote Valley that was until 1962, basically isolated. Hence the name… We had live music from two old timers at dinner, real Afrikaner boere tunes (nothing else would go down there anyhow) and the most tasty potjiekos. In that setting, that ambiance, it was top draw. Got to hang out with my old man a fair bit too, always a treat. He accompanied me on my run in the evening, something we dont often get to do.
Anyhow, excellent weekend. Michal and I have it figured now, and will be vastly more prepped for next time – our two tiny blow-up mattresses that only hold air for 30min’s, wont be packed next year… Thanks to Marc for getting this us there and back, much appreciated.
Since Dylan’s toolbox arrived Wednesday afternoon, and he spent most of Thursday doing pro bono tlc on my Specialized Epic, I felt determined to push on during the second stage. Perhaps too for the pride of the Bosch crew. Its not often I get handed a glossy race ready machine… So won the event by riding most of Day2 solo. Thanks Dylan – fine effort.
Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.
Congrats to all those who made it through the Hell. Not somewhere to stick around.
