Riding My Bike in Italy!!! Fantastico!

So my arrival in Milano was celebrated with a good dumping of rain. I hadn't made any plans prior to landing, so I rang my crazy friend, Anna, from the airport and we decided staying in Milan a couple of days was the way to go so I could get my bearings. To be honest, I'm not a big city-dweller, and I wasn't too keen on the idea, but I was glad I did. The city is so vibrant and has some amazing architecture. My high school Italian lessons coupled with a phrase book meant I could communicate enough with anybody to be able to get by. I was surprised how many people don't speak English here, and I don't mean that in an ignorant way, like I would expect them to, but it was quite a challenge to fly into a strange place, where people don't fully understand you and you don't fully understand them. It hasn't been unusual for me to get the wrong thing when I order meals, and the basic social etiquette here is very different. It makes it really hard to look after yourself pre-race when you can't ask for what you really need or want, so by and large, for the first couple of days, I had to get by on what I could manage to ask for!



I spent my first day in Milan walking around in the rain seeing the sights. My first investment was an umbrella and I armed myself with a tourist map and set off early in the morning. I was constantly amazed by how stunning the old buildings were and the architecture was amazing. The detail in some of the stonework was unbelievable. I saw a number of different landmarks but probably the one that stood out the most was Il Duomo Milano... The Cathedral. I'm not a religious person, but when I stepped inside that church, it took my breath away. The stained glass, tapestry and stonework was artwork in itself. The atmosphere in the church was amazing, too, with the choir and prayers. It doesn't surprise me that religion is still such an integral part of life for Italian culture because there really was something about the way I felt as soon as I entered the building that was very special and I can understand how that would be an important part of peoples lives.





Sunday was also the day of the Milan marathon, so I got to check outsome sporting action in the rain, too, which was kinda cool. The other thing I really love about Italy is that there are bikes EVERYWHERE! Being such a small, crowded city, riding a bike in Milano is one of the quickest ways to get anywhere and everyone seems to have these cool old skool cruiser bikes. There are even bike hire vending points around the city!





Monday I headed out of the city on the train for a little day trip to Lake Como (Lago Como). I still hadn't put the Ninja together yet for a couple of reasons. Firstly, the weather was terrible. Secondly, I didn't know where I was going yet. And thirdly, because I had no idea where to go riding in Milan. So while I was at the train station, I purchased myself a train ticket to Lago Garda, apparently a pretty sweet spot to ride your bike. Lago Como was lovely. A lot of cobblestone streets and narrow alleys with window shutters that swing outwards in old style stucco apartments. The cathedral was nice, but certainly not as spectacular as the one in Milan. There was also a market next to the cathedral, with all kinds of weird and wonderful things on offer. Among other things, marscapone moulded into the shapes of fruit, sandwiches and sheep... Bizarre.





The lake was also very beautiful, and seeing as I didn't have a bike together yet, I decided to go hiking to stop myself going stir crazy, and also to work of some of that gelato I have been eating (real Italian gelato is soooo bloody amazing). My Italian had also been coming along nicely and I was starting to get more confident speaking to people... Not just saying hello, but also asking how their day was. The problem with that was then they would try to converse back with me, which resulted in some rather awkward moments... Mi dispiace, non capisco!!! I hiked up the side of the local mountain, Brunate. The track was quite steep with a lot of steps. Half way up, there was a random restaurant that looked closed, but was actually open. Perfect for a hot chocolate before I made my way the rest of the way up the mountain. After being chased by a dog, and successfully asking for directions in my very best Italian, I arrived at the top funicular station... This is how most people get up the mountain... I just used it to get back down after my delicious meal of spaghetti bolegnaise. The views from the top were definately worth the climb...







I went for a bit more of a stroll around the town centre and lake front, where there was some gratuitous use of the self-timer mode on my camera (that's what travelling alone is all about right???). There was snow on the peaks of some of the mountains to the north of the lake which made for some spectacular photos opportunities and then I made my way back to the train station.





I had dinner planned with my old friend Anna Mei for the evening. I met Anna years ago at a 24 hour solo world champs in Canmore and we had kept in touch ever since. I was really looking forward to seeing her. It was also nice to be able to have a conversation with someone. I found over my first few days that it can be quite lonely travelling by yourself in a non English-speaking country. The only conversations you have with people are when you need something, and even then, the conversations are very broken and not really all that fulfilling. Anna speaks excellent English and it was so nice to have someone to talk to for the evening. I hadn't organised a place to stay yet for the night, so that was first on the agenda and much easier with Anna's car than hauling my bike box around on public transport again (thanks Anna!!!), then she took me to a really authentic Italian restaraunt and fed me like I was wasting away. I then voluntarily topped this off with gelato (bad idea, but so tasty!). The area we were in has canals, a bit like Venice, that were used to deliver building materials by boat for the construction of Il Duomo all those years ago.





This morning I was finally on my way to a biking destination, Torbole in Lago Garda. I couldn't wait to put the Ninja together and head out for a good ride. I must admit that I have been feeling a little concerned at my lack of riding lately post-Epic and heading into 24 hour world champs. It's really hard to train consistently when you travel, and I guess this is why I just planned to choose two or three places to stay and not move around too much. It's also quite painful and stressful hauling a bike box around, breaking the bike down and putting it together again all the time, especially on public transport. Whilst my bike box had wheels, it can be quite awkward because of my height, and even having to wheel it 200m to the bus stand can be a real pain in the arse. The other thing about travelling by yourself with a bike is that it makes it really hard to go to the toilet or get something to eat if you don't want to leave your bike unattended...They can be a logistical nightmare. So anyway, I was stoked when I arrived at my hotel this afternoon and put the Ninja together. The place I am staying is really lovely, with those European-stylee shutter windows. Quite comfortable, and soooo much cheaper than in the city, especially because they are in seasonal changeover right now, so it's a bit quiet for them. The only thing I'm not so keen on is that my bike has to stay in a storage area, and whilst it seems pretty secure, you know how it is... I have separation issues when it comes to my bike!



Lago Garda is an amazing corner of the world. Snow-capped mountains tower over the lakes and make it confusing to know what you should look at... Oh, and let's not forget the riding! Both mountain biking and road riding are very popular here and it just so happened that I had arrived on the day that the Giro de Trentino was running from Riva Del Garda, 3km down the road! So I put the Ninja together and headed off to check it out. I was pretty amazing, seeing all the pro teams riding around, the fleets and crews and their setups and warm up areas. It was a really amazing vibe and so elaborate compared to anything we have seen in New Zealand. It was kinda crazy to be rolling around on my bike amongst BMC, Astana and Europcar pro riders. In fact, as I was on my way, I was overtaken by the whole Liquigas-Cannondale team doing their warm-up (just casually)!







The Ninja was pretty excited about it, too, and insisted on getting some photos chilling with the pros...





By the time all the teams had set off on course, it had gotten quite windy and cold, so I returned to the hotel to get some warmer kit before heading out for a more substantial ride. I couldn't help smiling and thinking to myself what a cool place this was, and even cooler that I had just watched a pro tour! I didn't really have much of an idea of where I was going, but had picked up some maps. The locals weren't very forthcoming with information about where the sweet trails were and I only had a couple of hours before sunset, so I headed up the "small" mountain in between Torbole and Riva... It offered about 400m of climbing and the opportunity for some views. As I started climbing on the road, bits of singletrack started to appear off to the side. I took a gamble and jumped off the road onto some trail and was blown away. Not only were the trails an absolute delight, but there were views to match! It's so hard to describe just how amazing some trails are and photos never really seem to do it justice. I remember climbing these trails salivating at the thought of descending them once I reached the top.





It was another one of those days where I just couldn't think of anything in the world that would make me happier than riding a bike. I didn't feel a million bucks like I had on my last few rides in South Africa, which was to be expected... I had been in transit and not really sure off where I was going for the last four days and had been eating terribly... But just the vistas and the surprise of stumbing across such sweet trails was enough to have me grinning ear to ear. I reached the tower at the top of the climb and then turned around and started picking my way back down the trails. As I descended, I found more and more trails and I just let myself get lost amongst them, trusting that they would spit me out somewhere near Riva Del Garda at some point (and they did).





The trails were a mixture of bed rock, steps and loose, rocky terrain and pretty gnarly in some places. It was hard to concentrate on technical trails when these crazy views kept averting my attention. I remember thinking something along the lines of "this is crazy... this shit can't be real"... But it was. I was so happy and having such a great time that I was hollering and laughing out loud as I descended like a crazy person... That feeling... THAT is what wwe ride bikes for! As the sun began to set, the wind picked up and I got a bit creative, once again, with the self timer on the camera, getting some pretty cool shots of me on the bike with views in the background (although, let's face it... There were views everywhere. It probably would have been more difficult to get a shot without a view!).





I arrived back at the hotel after shift change and the new guy on was so lovely. He spoke excellent English and we talked about bikes and riding. He knew what the Cape Epic was and seemed highly impressed that I had just completed it, then sent me over to his friends restaurant for dinner where I had my first well-balanced meal in days, with lots of fresh salad and veggies. It was a perfect end to the day (he also gave me some free limonata to try, which made me just a little tipsy!). Tomorrow I have booked in with the local guide in a group to head out for a ride (it is free with my accommodation, which is kinda cool). I figured the pace may not be what I want, but it might help me find some more trails along the way. It's going to be amazing! I may stay here longer than planned... It's comfortable and I find it an inspiring place to ride, which makes it a great place to prepare for world champs. Let's see what the next few days brings, but I think I may be in for a treat!

Final Days in Cape Town and Feeling Good on the Bike

Today, I said goodbye to Cape Town at 5am and started my journey to Milan for my four weeks in Europe before 24 Hour Solo World Champs. My last few days in Cape Town have been an absolute blast and I can sincerely say I've grown pretty attached to the place and am going to miss it dearly.



Tuesday morning I made my way to Lions Head nice and early to go paragliding. I arrived well before I needed to be there (a sure sign that I am a tourist) but was rewarded with a spectacular sunrise over the city. The paraglide instructor arrived and after a short hike up the side of Lions Head to our launch pad, we were ready to go. The tandem pilot and his porter laid out the glider across the top of the launch mat, which I could describe best as a large piece of shadecloth stretched down a steep decline towards a cliff. The idea was to run down this and literally run off the edge of the mountain (oookaaaay).



I haven't been paragliding before so I wasn't quite sure what to expect. The instructor and pilot was a lovely dude, but wasn't very good at giving directions or explaining things which resulted in our first launch attempt turning into a me attached to the pilot rolling down the cliff commando style stopping just short of the drop-off. It wasn't particularly confidence-inspiring and resulted in a lot of swearing from the instructor to his porter... In the end, our second launch was very successful and we were sailing above the ocean off the edge of Lions Head. It was hard to discern the point when our feet left the mountain and we were gliding through the air. The views suspended above Lions Head looking back down towards the cape were different to any I had experienced so far.



The flight was pretty spectacular, but I wouldn't call it extreme at all (the most extreme bit was the take-off). It was very pleasant and lasted about ten minutes, but I don't know if I would do it again. I didn't really get a kick out of it like I would skydiving or bungee jumping. Maybe it's just because I am an adrenaline junkie. We landed in a local school oval and the instructor packed up his glider after untangling it (I got the impression this was because I hadn't continued to run forward far enough after we landed... It's really hard to run when you are attached to someone with longer legs than you... Kinda like when I sit on a chair and my feet don't touch the ground).



Wednesday was my last day before I had to pack up the Ninja for her trip to Europe and I decided that, being a lovely Cape Town day, I would head out for a nice long ride and attempt to navigate my way by bike to Tokai MTB park for a bit of a blat around the trails there. After asking people about directions and feeling increasingly confused, I decided to consult Google Maps and get a bit of a run-down on how I get there. I was surprised at how flawlessly I found my way to Tokai without any geographical embarrassment.

Once I started climbing up the gravel road that winds its way up to the top of the forest, I was surprised at how good my legs felt. It was a warm day, but not too hot, the sky was clear and it was just so awesome to be out on the bike. As I climbed out of one section of singletrack, I saw a sign that said "mast 6.2km"... It sounded like my kind of ride, so I continued to follow the signs to said mast, climbing up a rough dirt road, then onto a sealed tar road that kept climbing. A sign at one cross road told me that the mast was at an elevation of 928m. I figured I would ride a little way up, check out some views and come back down.



As I climbed, I felt like my whole body was being cleansed. My legs felt quite good and a gentle breeze kept me cool. As I climbed higher and higher, some amazing views presented themselves to the east and to the west. My thoughts that I was completely alone in my own little world were interrupted when I came across a group of workers on the side of the road doing some garden work, which seemed kind of random in such a remote place where the flora seemed to have a mind of its own and free reign to do as it wished. It was akin to going riding in a national park in New Zealand and finding a ranger trimming the plants in some random, out-of-the-way location. Anyway, they were very friendly and we exchanged "good mornings". I got to the point on my climb where I thought I may as well just go to the top. Every corner I turned gave me stunning vistas of the Cape from higher up than I had been, apart from maybe when we caught the cable car to the top of Table Mountain.



The mast is a clearly visible landmark from sea level before you enter the park, which made it even cooler, to be able to see exactly where I had climbed to. There was a team of four workers doing what appeared to be structural work on the mast and they waved at me from their little perch higher up the mast than I could safely climb with the Ninja.



It felt really good to be up there by myself. It provided clarity for me to think and process everything that had happened the last few weeks. It felt amazing to climb up a mountain feeling so strong, with my own two legs, no towing, no pressure... Just me, my legs, the Ninja and my thoughts. It made me really happy. I don't know exactly why. Maybe I felt like I was showing myself that I was the rider I thought I was, and that was really empowering for me. The views were stunning and the coolness of the altitude was really refreshing (it was about 7 degrees colder up the top than in the park).



As I descended, the air got noticeably warmer, I passed the gardening crew again, albeit a bit faster this time, and some other riders grovelling up the road I had just climbed, and then descended back into the park to make my way back to the bottom via a maze of sweet singletrack descents and rough gravel roads. I felt good on the bike. Actually, I felt like I could have just kept riding all day and ended up extending my planned ride out from three hours to four. I couldn't help thinking on my ride back that I reckon the only thing on this earth that seems to make me truly happy the way I felt today is riding a bike. How cool is that?



On my way back, I needed to detour via Olympic cycles. I had taken my bike into them yesterday to have the bushings replaced in the clunking rear end of my bike and now something was a little amiss again. I was quite stoked with my navigational skills when I randomly chose a turnoff that put me pretty much straight on the doorstep of the bike shop, where they fixed my clunky rear end again with some loctite so I could be on my way. It made the day even more awesome (if that was even possible)!



My last day in Cape Town on Thursday was pretty productive. I got up early(ish) and headed out for a sneaky little ride before I had to pull the Ninja apart and pack her into her box. It was a beautiful clear morning and I headed up the mountain with the intention of just riding some trails and heading home. I ended up on a trail that was heading up the mountain towards the block house, which is a visible landmark when looking at the mountain from Observatory, and just kept climbing. At forks in the trail, I randomly chose which way to go and found myself at the block house, about a 500m climb up Table Mountain. I was gutted that I hadn't brought my camera with me this morning. The view was breathtaking and the blockhouse itself was quite spectacular with a couple of old canons and a lookout. It was pretty cool, and a lovely early morning climb to get the legs pumping. The legs are feeling pretty bloody good post-Epic... As much as I hate to admit it, that forced rest with being sick and then the terrible Easter weekend weather probably did me a world of good. There was a bit of residual fatigue from the previous days ride, but overall I felt great. Hopefully I can hold onto that and carry it in to 24 hour solo world champs.



After some breakfast and packing up some bits and pieces I didn't need for the rest of the trip, I decided to catch a a taxi out to Kirstenbosch, the local botanical gardens... This was probably the only thing I had wanted to do that I hadn't checked off yet, and with a clean bike and most other pre-travel prep out of the way, I thought I would while away the afternoon strolling around the gardens. I was surprised that there weren't a lot of taxis along Main Road... Mainly just minibus taxis, which weren't going where I wanted to go. I still find minibus taxis amusing. They drive along tooting their horn with one guy hanging out the window yelling out the taxi's destination... "Wynburg!!! Claremont!!! Wynburg!!! Claremont!!!". At the same time, occupants of the minibus are hanging out the window talking on their phones because they can't hear over the goings-on inside the bus. You also have to be really careful not to make eye contact with the guy calling out the destinations, or they pull over and try to recruit you onto their minibus of craziness. It really is quite comical to watch. I also still find it quite comical that there is such liberal and gratuitous use of car horns here...



Anyway, I finally got myself a taxi, and I reckon it was the best taxi trip I have had since I had been here. The driver was a gangsta rap-loving badass and I was totally digging his vibe. I think he saw me tapping my foot because he cranked up the stereo and we rolled like gangstas the whole way to Kirstenbosch. I got a couple of weird looks from garden-types as I climbed out of the only taxi in the parking lot that was pumping gangsta rap out its doors... Hilarious. I gave the guy a good tip!



The botanical gardens at Kirstenbosch are spectacular and I was so glad I managed to go and see them before I left. I'm not a real plant fiend, but there was some pretty cool stuff there, some lovely views of the garden with Table Mountain or with the city in the background and some amazing art. I think my favourite part of the gardens were the sculpture displays, and I also really enjoyed the Cycad garden for some strange reason... It felt very prehistoric. The sculptures were scattered abundantly around all the gardens, but there was also a special "sculpture garden" which was a worthwhile stroll.



There was also an art exhibit in the gardens called "Untamed" which I really enjoyed, too. The exhibit contained a series of large carved wooden sculptures each paired with a piece of poetry reflecting on the impact of human behaviour on the environment and nature.



I also found the glasshouse quite interesting. It had been set up in such away to replicate a desert environment, and it was bizarre how much it felt that way when you walked in. The dry, suffocating desert heat hit you as soon as you walked in the door. It was a great way to spend an afternoon, strolling around the gardens enjoying the sun and checking out some cool stuff.



For the trip home, I caught a local bus to Mowbray train station and then caught the train back to Observatory. The bus driver was crazy... He also used his horn very liberally and spent most of his time occupying both his side of the road and the other at speed. I was constantly surprised by how quickly he seemed able to pull the bus to a stop. The locals seemed unphased, which made me draw the conclusion that this must just be the way bus drivers roll around here.



My final evening in Cape Town was spent with Sarah and Gav at Hello Sailor, which had become my "local" for the time I had been here. They had good breakfasts and lovely waitresses and really wicked music to chill to while sipping on rooibos tea and checking emails. I was gonna miss these guys... I was also going to miss their amazing Malva Pudding, of which they were lovely enough to have made a fresh batch for me for my last evening. I also sampled a couple of glasses of the local wine to celebrate my thoroughly enjoyable stay in this amazing corner of the earth... Two glasses was enough to have me sufficiently tipsy and giggly for the evening.



So now, after a couple of flights, I am back in Abu Dhabi on yet another long overnight layover. This time, I decided not to muck around and just forked out the USD$185 for the airport hotel to get a good nights sleep instead of trying to sleep on the floor in the terminal. To top it off, I am also enjoying some duty-free dark chocolate for desert. Today was pretty hectic. My flight left Cape Town at 5.45am and then in Johannesburg I had a mere one hour between my flight landing and my next connecting flight boarding to get my boarding pass, clear customs and security and find my way to the gate just in time for boarding (phew!)... Hopefully the Ninja made it onto the flight so we can be reunited in Milan tomorrow. In a bizarre twist, I happened to bump into a familiar face on the flight back to Abu Dhabi and realised it was the same lady I had sat next to on my way from Abu Dhabi to Johannesburg four weeks ago! Very random! So now on to Milan and Europe, and with a start list in hand for world champs, I'm starting to get nervous all over again!!

Cape Epic Wrap-Up... The Good, The Bad and The Lessons

It's been a couple of weeks now since I finished the eight day sufferfest of the Cape Epic in South Africa, but I still feel like I'm in the thick of the race. I still wake up in the morning and my mind and my body reminds me of racing. I still haven't fully processed my achievement of finishing, and with a pleasing result, might I add, arguably the most gruelling mountain bike stage race in the world. As I play the eight days over in my head, they become a blur of waking up early, mass buffet meals, sleeping in tents, smashing myself, holding onto John's bag up hills and crossing finish lines. I find it difficult, in retrospect, to remember which day correlated to which gruelling stage. I do, however, remember some of the really awesome things of the race, the things that challenged me most and what I learned from it.



THE COOL STUFF ABOUT THE CAPE EPIC...
- Feeling smashed at the end of each day from leaving it all out on the track.
- The sense of pride I felt whenever I heard the announcer say "Megan and John from team Mitre 10 Mega - Yeti who are here all the way from New Zealand!"... Hell yeah!
- Having such an amazing team behind us. Huge kudos goes out to Mitre 10 MEGA, Yeti Cycles NZ, Oli at Roadworks, Adidas Eyewear, Camelbak, Blox Apparel and Ayup Lights. Thanks team! I hope we made you proud!
- John's camelbak strap and rear left pocket... My special towing places...
- Coming 13th in an international field of over 60 mixed teams, a lot of them professional.



- Our three top ten stage finishes in our category.
- The cameraderie among riders throughout the event... Sharing tables with different people at dinner each evening, talking smack in the massage tent, chatting with tent village neighbours, riders who would push me up a hill or onto the back of a bunch just to give John a rest... I'll miss them all... What a great bunch of dudes and gals.
- The amazing support we recieved from spectators along the course the whole eight days. Kids from the local villages running alongside us offering apples, or slapping our hands as we rode past, people who had hauled sculptures and signs to the tops of mountains to greet us as we crested our biggest climbs, people who crowded the street in front of us and shouted encouragement as we rode through the narrow path remaining once all the spectators had crammed themselves in. What an incredible experience.
- Having John Randal as a teammate. This guy was a machine, towing me up climbs and on to the back of bunches throughout the race, cutting the wind and setting good pace. I reckon the reason I was so smashed at the end was from trying to keep up with him. It was great to have someone to push me and as a result, I'm sure we went much faster as a team than I would have as an individual. We had our share of disagreements and awkward moments throughout the week, but that doesn't detract from the fact that we completed one of the most gruelling races in the world with a very plausible result.



- Waking up at 5am every morning to a live bagpipe performance. How random. A live African Drumming troupe may have been more traditional, but who am I to complain about a free live performance and not having to set an alarm clock?
- Our shower block... Those grimy, industrial semi-trailer shower blocks were the first port of call after finishing a stage... And they had amusing little cyclist jokes stickered to the walls of each shower "you know you are addicted to cycling when....."
- The massage tent. Who can argue with a tent full of good-looking, educated young ladies who are waiting to massage away your aches and pains at the end of a hard days riding... The only thing missing was the beer.
- The Go Pro Copter... a little robot helicopter launched above the field at the start line to take Go Pro footage of the start... In fact, helicopters in general were pretty cool... I haven't been in too many races where the action is televised around the world from a chopper.
- The views! Whenever I remembered to look up in between leg-numbing pedal strokes, there was a pretty good chance my eyes would be treated to a delicious feast of scorched mountains bordered by vinyards and coastlines... Magic!



- The food... OK, so by the end, I was pretty sick of buffet meals, but I must admit that we ate pretty bloody well for the week, and the team that worked for the catering company were such a good bunch of dudes... For some reason, they seemed to remember me each night "I saw you at waterpoint two today and you looked tired... You must eat more" they would say, heaping up my plate with pasta... Okay, won't argue with that!
- The sunset and moonshine over tent village... What a cool sight!
- Water stops... Little oasis that were dotted along the track sporting a morning tea better than your Grandmas. My favourite was the fruit cake and I took an unusual liking to drinking Coke over the week of the race, too. Damn that was good!
- Volunteers... They always seemed to be smiling, and I am sure they got less sleep than I did throughout the week.
- Riding my bike in South Africa!!! Yeeeew!
- Oak Valley singletrack. What a pleasure this was to ride. Flowy, fast lovingly cut singletrack. Such a treat to throw in amongst the brutality of a long day of racing.



- Sketchy, loose, rocky descents... Not any one in particular... There were heaps of these descents and it was great fun letting the breaks go and sliding down them with reckless abandon. We made up time on a lot of these descents.
- Descending muddy singletrack like a technical maestro on stage 5, hollering the whole way... It made me just a little bit homesick.
- Shaking Burry Stander and Christoph Sauser's hands at the finish line.
- The Ninja... My Yeti ASR5C didn't skip a beat the whole week. The perfect machine for the race.
- That feeling each night that I had ridden so hard that I could ride no more... Then somehow doing that again the next day.
- The Absa riders lounge, which shelled out free softdrink, sports drink, water and icecreams to riders while we bummed around watching their TV and playing on their internet at the end of the day.
- Sweet Cheeks Butt Butter. I am rather pleased with how well I looked after my bum for the week, and as crude as it sounds, it is probably one of the most important things. My saddle sores were carefully tended to each evening in my tent and then a couple of handful scoops of bum butter each morning just before setting off to the start chute seemed to keep them at bay.
- The "Keepers of the Portaloos"... These ladies were up at the crack of dawn with all the riders, organising and directing the huge queues. They had morning toilet time down to a fine art, directing our sleepy bodies to the next available lavatory with amazing cheerfulness, and even giving the loos a scrub and replenishing the toilet paper in between uses. Pillars of the community of tent village!
- The chain lube guys at the water points... They stood there, can in hand waiting for us without fail at every water point for us to lube-and-go. The were never hard to miss. They would stand at the exit to the water point, holding their can in the air yelling out "CHAIN LUBE". Brilliant!
- The finish line at the end of each day...
- Earning that finishers medal and jersey at the end of 8 hard days of racing.



THE NOT SO COOL STUFF...
- When the bagpipe man misses the memo about our last day starting at 8.30am and not 7am... His 5am chimings were not so well-recieved on that last day.
- Crash number one on day three. Crashing into your own teammate at about 35km an hour leaves a lot to be desired. Doing this on a gravel road is even worse. My left elbow and left knee will don the scars from this accident forevermore and the bruising on my left hip and shoulder has only just gone down enough for me to sleep on. The scab on my elbow continued to weep the entire week through flexing of my arm, mixed with dirt, mixed with showering. I was told the crash looked spectacular from behind... For some reason, I didn't get a lot of comfort from this.
- Crash number two on day eight. Launching yourself over your handlebars whilst bunny-hopping foot-wide ditches at 30km an hour also leaves a lot to be desired. I remember lying on the side of the trail curled in a ball yelling out the "F" word repeatedly at the top of my lungs. I was sure at the time that it was a race-ender for me. I remember lying there trying to figure out how I would get myself to the finish line with a broken collar bone so we could finish the race, then I realised, to my amazement, that everything was still functional. Upon further inspection at the finish line, I had ripped the skin off my right elbow now, sprained both wrists, bruised the bone on the palm of my left hand, corked my entire right thigh to black (so much so that my foot was swollen, too) and aqcuired some whiplash when my head hit the ground. I wasn't sure whether to be thankful that I fell on the opposite side to accident one, or whether I would have been better off having a side left to sleep on. I don't think anyone saw this accident from behind... what a waste of a good crash!
- Snorers in tent village...
- The bitter cold and driving rain on stage five of the race. You know you are cold when your fingers and toes go numb for hours on end and when your chattering teeth can be heard over the chain slapping against the stay on the descents.



- Being sick on day 5. Apparently I was yellow on the start line.
- Struggling to eat my breakfast only to look outside and see another rider vomiting outside the door of the mess tent. I took one more look at my fork full of scrambled egg and put it back in its place on the plate.
- Losing my appetite, especially at breakfast.
- Hitting the wall, lights out, at any given moment along the way. It was super important to stay well-fuelled and well-hydrated.
- Getting dropped by the bunch.
- The mess I seemed to be capable of making in my tent from a race bag that was so well-organised with ziploc bags.
- Caledon race village... Far too much walking...
- The 4000 rand (NZD $600) that I will miss after the service to bring my bike back up to scratch after the race... New XTR drivetrain, front and rear shock service, new bushings and sleeves and a bunch of other work... It came as no surprise after 800km of harsh terrain... The Ninja was flawless!
- Lack of sleep and that expressionless stare...
- Steep, loose climbs... Mental note... Must find somewhere near home to train on these for future events!
- Hike-a-bike... my legs are far too short for that sort of carry-on! I love my parents but I am slightly annoyed to have inherited their midget legs.
- Feeling the urge to cry all the time... What a huge emotional rollercoaster!
- Having either the organiser's "hype up songs" from the start line or something by Lady Gaga stuck in my head all day, every day... WTF?
- Post-race illness! How frustrating! I just want to spin my legs out, honest!



COOL STUFF THAT I LEARNED...
In amongst all the highs and lows of completing the longest stage race I have ever done (and arguably the hardest in the world), there were things that challenged me well beyond being just good or bad or indifferent. I suppose with any event like this, the opportunity for self-development is huge. You learn more about yourself, and more about your teammate in that 8 days than you would in a lifetime. There were things that challenged me as part of the Cape Epic that I had not forseen, and I doubt I would have forseen with any amount of preparation. Lessons that only had relevance or could only be seen in the context of the event itself. After years of racing crazy endurance events, there was a lot of this stuff I expected to encounter... Injuries, accidents, mechanicals, loss of appetite, lack of sleep, crook gut and nerves. But probably the most prevalent of these lessons was that of team dynamics in a mixed team environment.

I hadn't done a lot of team racing in this sort of format event, where you are with your teammate the whole way (in fact, come to think of it, I hadn't done any. This was a first for me). It's very different to racing a laps race where you race as a team but contribute individual efforts. In the Cape Epic, John and I were living in tents next door to each other, we ate together and had to stay within two minutes of each other while we were racing. Everything that each of us did over those eight days would likely impact the other in one way or another.



One thing I think we neglected to address sufficiently before the race was the issue of mixed team dynamics. I'm not sure if we didn't address it because we didn't forsee it as a problem, or maybe we just didn't know how to address it, or maybe we were unsure of how that dynamic would play out in a team sense until we actually placed ourselves in that situation. It is inevitable in a mixed team that you will have one team member who is substantially stronger than the other, physically. Without a solid plan of how to "even out" this strength, two things generally happen... The weaker team member get frustrated that they can't keep up, and the stronger team member gets frustrated that the other team member is slower. Whilst the specifics of these challenges are now not really all that relevant, the more I speak to experienced mixed teams post-Epic, the more I wish we had addressed this strength difference up front. Sure, we had discussed John carrying extra gear and my drink bottles, but there was more to it than that. Mixed racing is a whole different ball game. I can't speak for John, but if I'm being entirely honest, I felt like the weakest link over the week of the Epic. I felt frustrated that I couldn't keep up with John, I felt like I was working my guts out and contributing nothing to our result, I felt like I couldn't do the right thing by John the whole week and that he resented me for it. It was hard emotionally. It was also hard on my pride and it was hard physically. That I am a stubborn bitch probably didn't help matters much, either... It was neither of our faults, and I think we did exceptionally well for our first foray into mixed racing, but it was a huge step sideways into something that was far more complicated than simply completing a bike race, and I don't think we fully appreciated this until we were right in the thick of it.



I suppose that in a nutshell, the lesson is that in any team environment, the entire team only performs well if each component of that team has exerted themselves to their full capacity on any given day. What this means is that as a leader, or as a team unit, we have to figure out how we move the additional strength and skills of one member and transfer these to another member temporarily (hopefully in the process, helping that team member to improve their skill or strength in that area). This also requires making sure we have a full understanding of exactly what each team member has to contribute and in what quantities. To be honest, I still don't understand this in its entirety, and whilst John and I worked out ways of doing this as we raced, I am sure there is still much more to learn from it. Would I have been in a better position to use John's additional strength if I had trained particular areas of my own strengths that I otherwise wouldn't have paid much attention to in training (maybe things like sprinting onto the back of a bunch, or practising hike-a-bike)? Ironically, the fact that I am so small probably made me a more suitable partner to tow. How do we use a team's collective strengths to counter their collective weaknesses? It's pretty interesting stuff, and the effects are exaggerated in a mixed team environment.



What makes this lesson even cooler is that it is something that directly translates into my personal life, my work life and my racing. How do we address differences in strength, differences in expectations and differences in the ways we view achievements when we are working with a team (whether it be one person or a whole group of people)? I'm certainly no expert yet, but I find it incredibly interesting, and it is definately something that needs to be discussed, as a team, before venturing into the unknown.

I must admit that I am quietly pleased right now to not be sleeping in a tent and waking up at 5am every morning to pull on my jersey and shorts and smother my rear end with chamois cream before lining up amongst 1200 other cyclists to fight to hold onto the bunch for yet another day. I am, however, convinced that I am having stage race withdrawals. I miss walking past tent village neighbours and just getting that vague nod that says "yeah, I know what you mean". I miss having a sense of purpose each and every day... Something to achieve. I miss the urgency of racing. Being on the ball and forcing my body through yet another day that I thought I couldn't (I sometimes wonder just how long I could have pushed my body along).



I'm really proud of what John and I achieved as a team. I am so grateful that he was there to drag me up hills, to encourage me to dig that bit deeper, to remind me to eat more. The moments when he commended me on my riding skills or how strong I looked on a particular section or on a day really meant a lot to me. I am also proud of myself for my tenacity, the hard work I put into preparing for and completing the race, my ability to line up each day and thrash myself all over again and for being able to take such awesome wisdom and learning from the event, which is invaluable to me not only as a rider, but in the general game of life. More than anything else, though, I was so proud to cross the finish line in Lorensford as team Mitre 10 MEGA - Yeti NZ holding John's hand. It was one hell of a ride, and I hope that along the way we have inspired, and continue to inspire and make proud our followers and sponsors.

For now, my focus shifts to 24 Hour Solo World Champs in Italy in May, then beyond that is a whole new world cracked open and made possible by my learnings from the Cape Epic. How exciting!