Mentally, I learned that sore legs are just sore legs and you can ignore them quite well with enough practise.

Emotionally, I learned to trust my own pacing and judgement again. Sometimes, the pack does not know best.

Technically, I benefitted immensely from watching the racing lines of an expert – my partner. I am looking forward to applying this new-found skill set to Sani2c in a week’s time.

All these things brought me to a pretty special place sometime on Saturday evening on a flight between Durban and Cape Town. Somewhere along the week a seed was planted and just there, it showed it’s first leaf. I watered it and it wanted to grow so beautifully that I couldn’t help but be lead down a path of creativity, inspiration and hope.

The idea was seeded with a manifesto that included words like integrity, trust, community, playfulness and simplicity. It expanded into excel sheets, rough drawings and a vision. In there somewhere is a business idea which is based on everything that drives me. Clarity ensued and everything seemed to make sense – the numbers, the ideas and even the collaborations that would come out of it.

“Ladies & Gentleman, we have begun out descent. Please switch off all electronic devices…”

Dreams followed and the following morning, I couldn’t shake this feeling. The days’ happenings merely served as confirmations that this was a good path to dream on, to reflect on and to contort the future with. A bounce in my step was visible even to own eyes as I gathered information about this venture. As steam built in the little engine.

Beautiful clarity that comes from fatigue when our only options are clear ones, when the fluff seems to fall away and we are left with fight and flight, yes or no.

Now the process to mould begins, to align the stars and build a sustainable way to bring this idea to light.

A very non-sporty post today, but it’s been a bit of a race report festival here, so in the coming weeks I wanted to talk about more about little lifestyle elements that bring another dimension to us, as athletes.

I didn’t write yesterday because I feared a backlash and didn’t want to appear to be hanging up the towel until I was able to really do what I do best… recover.

Stage 8 was radical in every sense. Long, winding, tough, single track climbs. A 30km 2% ascent from 46-76km in thirty degree weather added to the mix as well as a new 8km longer approach to the Umkomaas descent provided enough ammo to hurt on a good day.

Team Pure Planet Racing woke up with dual chesty coughs and to keep the body guessing I had slept 11 hours to try and break a rising fever I had. It seemed ok, but not gone, so we ventured off into the Umko valley – the famed descent that is the crux of Sani2c.

The new approach hurt as nobody was sure where it would end and nobody wanted to give up space in the line as you may end up behind a slow descender. Nic tore off the line as he wanted to rail the Red Bull section midway down the descent and I gingerly made my way across, hoping it would let up sooner than later.

The descent is just indescribable. For about 20km you hardly have to pedal as you ride the perfect single track down into one of the most beautiful valleys in the world.

I should just stop there, while I am ahead, and that was possibly the plan – check body stats at 38km and call it. I felt great at 38km so tried to soft pedal out of the valley and when the first water point hit at 44km, I was still smiling.

The next 30km slowly but surely twisted me inside out and left the soft squishy bits showing, those that don’t like sun, soil or the searing back pain that was starting to creep into my world.

Properly struggling as we hit WP 2, I doused my head (which was steaming I’m sure) in a bucket and tried to cool the core down. The last 30km are a bit of a blur. I merely turned pedals. I kept thinking about the money we had raised and just making it through the day.

Obligation came to mind. It was a good motivator.

Five and a half hours later, we were back in the athlete village where every 2nd person was coughing up oysters or dealing with a bad tummy. War zone would be the best description.

The doctor took my vitals and gave me a firm talking to, so I will spare you the numbers and just say that I slept most of the afternoon and spent the rest of the time trying to cool my core down as my fever was raging.

In bed at 7:30 and around 1am, I woke up soaked but without the tell-tale fever signs. It was a positive, so I changed jackets and attempted to do the same again ie sweat myself out. By 5am I was awake and ready for the day.

My mission was simple.

Finish.

No matter how long it took. Somehow, we were still in the top 50 teams so we were off in A batch. I immediately manned the rear and basically had the first 20km of the day entirely to myself as I dropped off the back to avoid the dust and then just soft pedaled till the first B batch dudes came tearing through.

I soft pedaled some more to water point 1, where I had a chat with some people and thanked every single person for their care and attention. Again, I soft pedaled to water point two, where more thanks and appreciation were the order of the day. Big love for the volunteers.

Just before water point two, disaster struck as we came around a corner to find a stationary vehicle parked and a kid on the floor in total agony. The car had come up the road we were riding on and the kid had hit it flat on the bull bar at 40km/h. Nic & I had dropped out of the group to help another gent with his chain not 5min before and it sent a shiver down my spine to think it could have been one of us lying there so close to the end.

Once the situation was settled and an ambulance was on the way, we soft pedaled some more into the new section of the last day. It was a beautiful, smooth piece of single track that lasted all of around 20km. It was a beautiful ending to the big week. We rode in alone to the finish line, a treat as we coud pace ourselves and I didn’t have to hurt so bad.

Then it was over. Just like that.

Now I sit here in the airport, waiting on my flight.

Now what? We raised around R40 000 for our food gardens over the week. That is a huge success. We suffered like champions. Not a huge success in our books as we were making our way up through the field and I feel we would have cracked the top 10 by the end of today.

Now we turn our eyes to recovery before we pick a new adventure where we can use our skills and networks to benefit the larger community and create options for others.

That’s what.

The viruses in the athlete village are running the show now. Our team has one very sick specimen and one barely hanging on to his health. Today, it called for a relaxing day as we want to finish and pushing for another day meant possibly missing the last two days.

So we donned out baggies to channel the inner Manuel Fumic and we were off at 8am this morning. Not surprisingly, our adrenaline got the better of us all the way to water point 1. Nic’s cassette lock ring came loose just before and it forced us to spend 15min at the water stop trying to fix it. It was also where sense prevailed and we decided to chill.

So we railed the single track and soft pedalled our way in to Mackenzie Club. Something had to be done to save the day where we both felt flat and one of us is struggling to even speak.

It was 82km of total fun today. The single track was insanely good and it was a fast ride throughout the day, even when we were taking it easy.

The athlete village is a war zone right now. I have never seen to many sick people and it seems the dust from the first few days is to blame as the majority of the illness is related to throat and chest infections. Breathing in dust at 90% of maximum heart rate for three days is just not conducive to staying healthy.

But its not all bad. I am currently sitting on the grass abusing free wifi and athletes are all around me, sleeping and resting for tomorrow’s famed 30km downhill into the mighty Umkomaas valley.

Let’s hope the gods of health return to us overnight and we have some vooma to give tomorrow.

Until then…

“No thanks, I’m just going to chill here.”

It was the first serious sign that something was way off. A Lamond never passes on a beer and never greets a woman with a handshake. If one of those two are off, you know shits about to get very dark.

I had to wear earphones in the night to sleep. His coughing and spluttering volumes were high. I knew that as soon as the alarm went off, the day would start in an off way.

“This throat is not good.”

Roughly translated, in Lamond, this means that life has ceased to exist in his throat and that the pain level is an 11 out of 10. “Not good” in Lamond means hospital time. They breed these studs with a high tolerance to pain and a high aptitude for problem solving.

He was keen to race, but knew he would be off his best. I offered to let him skip the day, as any good partner should, but also only brought it up once, as a good partner should. It would be a day of true partnership.

We were right there at 20km in, going up Sneeuberg Pass. My legs seemed to have returned today and as a little natural break formed near the front, I was in the top 8 and comfortable. Nic was just off, the intensity too much for his weary system, fighting for health rather than podiums.

I dropped back and gave him a manly shove to get him back into a small group and we nursed it over the top with the group to the water point, where we let them go. It was my time to behave as a metronome, setting the perfect, manageable pace for the day.

Words of encouragement were thrown around like rag dolls and we tried to focus on the scenery, the trails and really anything except his throat, which was on fire. He was coughing up oyster-sized, lumo colored chunks of phlegm from time to time, so really we needed to keep the intensity steady and avoid any real efforts.

The second climb of the day was a beauty, but tough on our progress as it required a change in pace or position on the bike every 10 seconds or so. A loose, rutted piece of trail that I will not forget in a while and one that climbed 600m into the sky before getting to water point two.

From thereon in, we nursed it. We had some fun down Face Plantation (where others broke legs, arms and faces today it seems from the stories I have heard) and I have to admit, I am flat out in love with my new bike. On full descend mode, there isn’t much I am scared of anymore. I am bridging groups on the downhill rather than losing time between them. Clearly, its all about the bike.

Once in our set up for the evening in Underberg we have taken every move towards Nic’s health – medical tent visits, sleep, massage, good food. We can only hope, as a team, that his health improves overnight as tomorrow we essentially start Sani2c, a daunting task on its own, never mind after 6 days of hard riding already.

I was immensely proud to be his partner today and when you come to these races, partnership is such a huge element to the week. We do everything together here and when one of us is in the dumps, the other has to be 100% focused on getting the other partner healthy / mended.

Thank you to all those who have gotten in touch regarding our fund raising efforts. I will return messages soon – my priority today is currently snoozing in the tent here and when he wakes I need to make sure he has everything he needs.

If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.

ANNE BRADSTREET

Day 5. We have the routine down now. 5am wake-up call. Whomever needs to drop the kids off at the pool first goes, the other stands in the queue for breakfast.

We dress, we pack, we banter and then we head to the line for battle. Where speed meets patience in this beautiful race across the country. We tow the line behind the Massey Ferguson. It’s a beautiful, moody, overcast morning.

We had it down. 1.5km in and right near the front of the entire pack – somewhere I have not been comfortable until this morning.

“Dude, your partner has stopped.”

“Raoul, Nic is calling for you.”

I stop and Nic is approaching slowly. His front derailleur is poked. Proper. No big blade on a day that requires it ALL the way. Our collective hopes for the day are out the window. Now is the time to play smart.

There is no ego here. Zero. A very rare thing and something I know I find only in my best friends. No animosity at the lost hope for the day. We make a smart, calculated call to head back to the start line and find our trusty mechanic Calvin. It’s a complete freak mechanical. It takes 8-10min or so to get it sorted as I watch the guys test it, then make adjustments, then test it again.

I stretch my legs and ready myself for the long, steady time trial the day will be.

“Raoooooooooooouul!”

My moment is here as the call from my partner comes.

And so, as the finish line is being packed up, the cars are heading out the gate towards the next overnight stop and the bemused onlookers gawk at the two guys in full elite-level balleur kit heading out the start gate…20min late…we make our way out of Winterton. 98km lie ahead of us and so do 700 riders we need to pass.

15km in and we hit the first single track. It’s a 10km rolling tight single track and we still have 600 people in front of us. They are not fast in the single track, so we have to bundu bash around them giving pleases and thank you calls for an hour while we negotiate the wilderness of the grasslands.

Familiar faces urge us on as we keep the pace steady on and on. We collect so much grass in our derailleurs we have to stop to clean them before we mission onwards.

At the first water stop, we skip the queues and we I estimated we are around 400th now. The rollers start to take their toll as we have done a lot of work so far. Nic is far more proficient than I am in the rough stuff and accelerating past 300 riders, 2 at a time, starts to bring the buzz to my quads.

After around 2h30, my head starts to get the better of me. My pace starts to drop and I have to make peace with the chase. That we are still moving smoothly and that is counts for something. Into the top 200 as we get to water point 2, up a hill called “Steepest”. My body is not playing along but some banana bread sorts me out.

Through farmlands and open field we head towards the finish. I find a bit of mojo again with 20km to go and the last 20km go by smoothly. Just like that.

C’est la vie. We are not sure where we finished, or what our time was. It wasn’t about that at all today.

Nic and I got through this as a team today. Smoothly without any animosity or ego. We fought smart and will be back tomorrow with a little more vooma.

One must not try to trick misfortune, but resign oneself to it with good grace.

ARISTOPHANES

Yesterday, we spoke with the lovely Xandile from ITEC about being Pro. We joked that there is more to life than mountain biking and if we have a bad day, it’s still a good day in the grand scheme of things. We are here to raise money, to network and connect so that we can create a prosperous future for others.

Around 50km into the day today we sped past Twitch, one of the kids from Songo who is riding the race. We have him earmarked for something great and we believe he has an amazing future. He is riding with a head cold, battling on. We raced in our Rhino Raid kit today and this was in a game farm where rhino are a part of the package. Rhino Raid is part of a new movement, which essentially comes down to raising awareness through gaming. Songo + Rhino Raid in one moment, right there. Both causes are important to me.

It reminded me why we are out here. That racing is only a part of it.

Did it deliver?

The answer is a resounding yes. Today was perhaps the best day of mountain biking I have ever had the privilege of riding. My trashed legs from a day ago held out much better today as I took a more conservative start to the day, opting for a game of Pacman towards the end.

We woke up to crisp, fresh air. It was certainly not as cold as yesterday and with 120km of cycling ahead, 1700m of vertical to conquer and finding a way to not blow up with 30km to go, we had a big set of tasks ahead of us for the day.

I had to be very patient with my body today after everything I put it through yesterday. I soft-pedaled the climbs in the first 15km, letting groups go, hoping they would come back to us later in the day.

Today was the turning point for two critical elements in this race;

Firstly, I fell in love with my Trek Superfly 100 and together we rode faster than I have ever ridden in single track.

Secondly, our partnership just clicked today. We rode as a team and it showed as we maintained our speed all the way to the end. The emotions that come with finishing strong are so much more powerful than just hanging on for the last 90 minutes.

I wish I could describe the scene as you crest the hill onto the Escarpment and you see the rolling views, snow-covered Drakensberg peaks in the distance and the rolling green hills of Kwa-Zulu Natal leading the way in the middle. The transition from Free State to Natal was sudden and took my breath away.

The single track that led us off the Escarpment was mind-blowing. Tight, technical and somehow, really flowing. The skill level required building it – incredible!

This led us down to the valley, where I suffered with the variance in pace (again) and I had to let the group we were with go, again. With 60km to go, they took off like there was nothing beyond the second water point except smooth downhill.

At 76km we reached water point two where I discovered the elixir of life. I was feeling tired, but like I still had plenty to give. The elixir was in the banana bread and I am sure it was the magic ingredient. I stuffed no less than 4 slices into my face and off we went to Spioenkop, the famous battleground and the toughest climb of the day.

We went past a sign that read “Slagveld” and we shared a laugh that Afrikaners sure knew how to not beat about the bush. There was a synergy in our movement now – a shared pace that suited my diesel engine as well as a flow in the single track as I hung to Nic’s wheel better than I ever had. He was having fun. I was having fun.

The enduro run was immense, requiring quite a lot of pedaling and leaving a tired, happy grimace on your face when you got to the bottom. Around the corner and voila!

There, just ahead, was the group who I dropped out of earlier.

“Amazing what happens when we are having fun.”

This comment motivated me to give a little extra as we hit 100km and there was only 20km to go. I followed Nic in the single track as tightly as I could and on the Puffadder climb, we rode without putting a foot down – his lines were exceptional and they added to my ability to bridge. At the top of the last climb – we were 30 seconds down.

I passed Nic about halfway down the climb, absolutely loving how my bike was handling and how my body was responding. The group reformed at the bottom with Pure Planet Racing setting the pace and taking us to Winterton.

We connected with some others in the group who had ridden Single Speed World Championships last year and one of them commented that they got all emotional thinking of the fallen Burry Stander riding the Skeleton Loop which we had just ridden as well. The memory of the man brought goose bumps to my entire body and a little more speed into the legs.

I could carry on about the finish from here, but really, the emotion I experienced there will stay with me all week.

We ride these races as a form of freedom. We ride them as a method of improvement. Yes, we want to do well, but the memory of Burry and his incredible impact on the South African mountain biking scene will live long.

It was the first time I was really touched by his legacy in that way and I want to take it with me to the finish in Scottborough in a few days time. He was a big supporter of Songo.info – who we are raising funds for over this week.

Get involved. Futher the change. Be the change.