I was exhausted! I reached for my drink bottle and drunk the
last mouthful of dirty warm water as I shoved a piece of cold mince pie in my
mouth. There I was, standing on the side of the road 10 km from Tekapo and the
finish of the
Great Southern Brevet 2014. My feet were throbbing, I had red hot
pains shooting through my Achilles, one knee was swollen from the 1000 odd km
of riding and my other knee was really swollen due to a crash late last night.
Oh and guess what? My arse felt like it had been repeatedly hammered by a blunt
instrument and sand papered for the last 4 days! As I looked up the road all I
could see was another hill and the consistent head wind was getting really old!
I was so close to the finish but it felt so far away.
The course
When I signed up for the Great Southern Brevet I had wanted
a challenge. A new challenge that would test my physical and mental limits. At ~1100
km, ~14000 m of climbing and the self supported solo style, the GSB ticked all
of the 'right' boxes. My goals going into the ride were simple. I wanted to
ride as much of the available 20 hour ride time each day (you were require to
stop for 4 hours every 24 hours). I planned to do this by riding until 2 am
each night/ morning and then stopping for a snooze between the hours of 2-6 am.
If I could ride as hard and as consistent as I could then no doubt my physical
and mental limits would be pushed to their limits.
As all 70 riders meet at the start line at the Church of The
Good Shepherd overlooking lake Tekapo, I felt well out of my depth. There was a
lot of talk about previous Brevet races people had done, big training weeks (
see how I trained HERE) and
age old gear debates (
see what gear I took HERE). Being a newbie I did not know what to expect and I just
had to keep reminding myself that the only way to tackle the daunting task that
lay ahead was one pedal stroke at a time. Simple.
As we rolled out of town and started to climb over towards
Lake Pukaki six or so riders started to pull away from the main field. We
settled into a steady pace and the km's started to roll by. I had planned to
carry enough food and water so I did not have to make a stop in Twizel. While
it meant carrying some extra weight it would save a lot of time not having to
stop. So while everyone pulled in for a stop at Twizel I quickly did my check
in text and then kept rolling. Out the front by myself now, I settled into a
steady pace and made my way towards the first real climb of the day up to
Flanagan Pass. This was a tough push/ carry and the calf muscles were feeling
the burn big time. Breaking the climb down into 20 - 30 steps at a time, I made
my way to the top and took a moment to admire the stunning views of Lake Ohau
before getting started on the brilliant downhill.
At the top of Flanagan Pass
Down on the lake front there was still no wind and I was
still out on my own, so it was steady as she goes as the road joined up with
the Alps to Ocean trial. Climbing once again, this time on the opposite side of
Lake Ohau the views were amazing in the low afternoon light. Once at the
Tarnbrae High Point it was time to enjoy a fantastic downhill and final pull
into Omarama. A quick stop in at the petrol station to stock up on some water
and I was on the road out of town with a few hours of day light left in the
sky.
Tarnbrae High Point with Omarama in the distance
When the going got tough all you had to do was take a look around and it was all worth it. Lake Ohau
The climb up to Omarama Saddle was a tough haul with 170 odd
km in the legs. I got into a routine in which I would ride as long as I could
until my legs could not go any more. Then I would get off my bike and push it
for 100 steps to give the legs a rest before getting on and riding again. It
was not the prettiest way to get up a hill, but if there is one thing
multisport and adventure racing has taught me is that relentless forward momentum
(RFM) pays off. One pedal stroke and one step at a time, that was what was
going to get me up this hill. As it turned out the Omarama Saddle climb was the
gift that just kept on giving and it was not until around 10 pm, just as the
sun was going down that I crest the top of the saddle and started on the
descent. As I started down the Manuherika Valley I encountered the first of
many river crossings. Ranging from knee to ankle deep, there was river crossing
after river crossing. This is what it was all about. Carrying your bike through
rivers, in the dark, by yourself, in the middle of nowhere. If this was Brevet
racing then I was loving it!
Amazing evening sky on the climb up to the Omarama Saddle
I had seen some huts on the map that I thought could have
been a good place to sleep on the first night. However, as I rolled past the
first hut it was not even 11 pm yet, well short of my 2 am target. So I kept
riding to see how far I could get, St Bathans maybe?
After the last of the river crossing it was back into some
solid riding on a gravel road. Just after midnight I arrived in St Bathans and
decided to sit down on the ground for the first time today. As I sat there to
send my check in text I shared some muesli bar with a friendly little hedge hog
on the side of the road. Still short of my 2 am goal I saddled back up and
pushed on. Arriving at the bottom of the Thompson Gorge climb the wind had
picked up and I could hear it howling through the gorge. Having been though
Thompson Gorge when training and racing in the Gold Rush Multisport race I knew
it could get pretty nasty in there with the wind. It was just after 1:30 am and
I figured that this would be a good place to have a kip before pushing on through
Thompsons in the morning. Who knows, the wind might even die down by then.
I huddled down behind a bush in my bivy bag and cooked up a
feed of Back Country Cuisine freeze dried spaghetti bolognaise. With a full
stomach I lay down trying to fall asleep. However, whether it was the noise of
the howling wind or the fact that I was still buzzing from the riding from day
1 there was not much sleeping happening during this 4 hour rest stop.
Day 2:
My alarm went off just after 5 am, I rolled over and started
heating some water for porridge and a warm drink (I was very pleased at my
choice to bring the cooker as this was one item I had hummed and harred about).
Packed up and on the bike I had a really sore right knee as I started to climb.
I must have banged it last night during the river crossings as there was a
bruise starting to come out, bugger, I hope it does not get to bad.
As it turns out the wind in Thompson Gorge had not died down
and I was faced with strong gusts that would blow me across the road into the
gutter/ almost over the cliff or to a complete stop. Once out of Thompsons and
on the road to Hawea the wind did not improve any. Strong head winds made the
going very slow and tough. Thinking ahead to the crossing of Lake Wakatipu I
thought that I could potentially catch the final 6 pm crossing on the Earnslaw
tonight all going well. This wind was not helping my case though. As I made my
way into Wanaka the heavens opened and it started to pour.
Coming into Wanaka in the Rain
Stocking up on energy products
It was a welcome sight in Wanaka to have some of the athletes
I work with cheering me on. After a quick stop at
Races Edge powered by
R&RSport to pick up some gels and bars, then a run through at the Bakery for a sandwich
and cream donut it was back on the road heading up the Cardrona valley. The
easy road ride soon gave way to the steep climb up to Rock Peak. This was a
very tough push climbing ~ 1200 m on steep rutted tracks. While the rain had
stopped since Wanaka the wind was unreal as I climbed higher. False summit
after false summit kept appearing and I could feel every single one of the 1200
m, was this climb ever going to end? Unfortunately the thick cloud meant that
the views from the top were very minimal. Luckily this did not affect the
quality of the downhill which was great fun and well earned after all of the
climbing.
Heading down into Arrowtown it was clear that I was not
going to make the 6 pm Earnslaw sailing. During a quick stop in Arrowtown there
was a rumour of an 8 pm sailing, which if I rode hard I could maybe make!
Riding hard through the endless Queenstown trail network, the clock was ticking
and it was going to be very tight. I finally rolled into Queenstown at 8:10 pm
and there was no Earnslaw! Apparently there was in fact no 8 pm sailing,
bugger. Luckily I was able to squeeze onto a water taxi and did not have to
overnight in Queenstown and give away the lead I had built up.
Getting on the water taxi to Walter Peak Station
Once over at Walter Peak Station I found it hard to get into
a rhythm again. I had a quick stop and got stuck into the sandwich that I had
brought in Wanaka. I realised that this was the first solid food I had had
since the cream donut while leaving Wanaka. Instead I had opted for the fast
acting ' high octane fuel' in the form of gels and lollies to keep me going
through the high workloads over Rock Peak. Now with some solids in the stomach
I felt like a million bucks and I was soon rolling again down the Von River
Valley.
Amazing scenery around Walter Peak Station
As I rode along in the dark I got a huge fright as a light lit up behind me. Was it a car, a rider? As I looked around I saw the most amazing full moon climbing up from behind a ridge. It was incredibly bright and I almost did not need my lights to see. Recharged by this amazing experience I ploughed on through the cold clear night until 2 am. Finding a soft grassy spot on the side of the road I dragged myself into my bivy bag and it was lights out almost immediately.
Crossing into Southland. I was shocked when I was not asked for my passport!
Day 3:
Waking from a deep sleep just after 5 am I cooked up the
most amazing breakfast of warm Back Country Cuisine freeze dried Three Fruit
Cheese Cake. This was the most delicious thing I had ever eaten, on the side of
a road, in the middle of nowhere! It was quite a cold morning as I headed
towards Mossburn. My right knee had not improved any since yesterday. Funny
that I though a couple of hundred km's would have sorted it out. It was really
sore and I hoped that it would not get too much worse.
Early morning breakfast views
As the sun rose above
the hills it turned into a picturesque Southland morning. When I arrived in
Mossburn I had my first 'sit down' meal in the local cafe with a bunch of
confused looking Asian tourists. Ordering way to much food, I stuffed the extra
into my pack for later in the day. Rolling out of Mossburn for a relatively
short push to Garston along the main road I was feeling good and looking
forward to the upcoming haul through the Nevis Valley.
Was this really a good way to go?
Historic Nevis Ski Hut
The climb up to the top of the Nevis was a Scorcher with the
sun now high in the sky. The road was in great conditioning making climbing out
of the saddle a good option to give the butt a rest now and then. A quick stop
at the historical ski hut for some body and bike maintenance, I soaked in the
views before heading off for the final part of the climb and then the downhill.
With the wind at my back the ride down through the valley was great and the
back country views were stunning. The multiple river crossings through the
valley were a welcoming break from riding and a chance to cool off. The
enjoyment soon wore off as my attention turned to the climb out of the valley
over Duffers Saddle. This steep climb was made all the more tough as there were
5 trucks carrying gravel up and down the road as part of some road works that were
going on. This meant every couple of minutes I would get a massive face full of
dust as one of the trucks roared past.
Top of the climb. Still on the right road at this stage!
WRONG TURN
As I wound my way through the roads above Clyde I found
myself at a cross roads with the option of heading right or left. This is where
I ran into my first problem. The maps that I had printed for this leg of the
ride did not show very good detail. I had thought that the navigation was going
to be pretty straight forward here, and in hindsight I guess it was and I was
just not thinking straight due to fatigue. But I could not work out where I was
on the map. Looking through the ride notes the kilometre markers and turn
instructions were not much good to me as my odometer was out due to the fact
that it did not register at speeds below 4 km/h, meaning that the pushing and
carrying uphill and through rivers that I did earlier in the day had not been
included to the figure that was now showing on my screen. This is where it
would have been great to 1) have a GPS (which was sitting at home on my desk)
and 2) be riding with others so I could talk over route choices. With neither
of those options available at the moment I choose to turn left, which as it
turns out was the wrong way completely.
The detour! The way I was meant to go (red) and the way I went (orange)
I soon learnt the errors of my way when I emerged at
Bannockburn. Absolutely gutted that I was now off course, I made the decision
to take the main road from Cromwell to Clyde and pick up the course there. Why
I did not choose to back track? I am not sure, as it would have likely been
much faster, but in my fatigued and pissed off state I could not face heading
back up the long hill I had just descended.
I set to work making up for lost time on the ~30 km detour.
As I crossed the Cromwell Bridge I heard the sound that no rider wants to hear,
hhhhhiiiiiisssssss as all of the air rushed out of by back tyre. I pulled out
the big piece of glass sticking out of it hoping the tubeless sealant would
seal up the hole. Unfortunately the gash was too big and before I knew it my
tyre was completely flat. I sat on the side of the road in the howling wind and
set to work changing my tyre. I had signed up for a physical and mental
challenge, this was sure doing it!
Setting to work focusing on the process of how I was going
to get back on track I put my head down and started pedalling. My pace was
painfully slow as I pushed into the head wind through the Cromwell Gorge, one pedal stroke at a time, one pedal stroke
at a time. I breathed a sigh of relief as I finally caught sight of the Clyde
Dam. On to the Clyde to Alex river trail I was back on course and had managed
to lose minimal ground. Unfortunately the detour meant that I was arriving in
Alexandra in the dark which was going to slow down the next stage.
It was great to see some familiar faces in Alex during my quick
refuel stop at the petrol station. Heading into the Knobby Range track I was
taking extra caution finding my way through the maze of tracks and trails
around this area. As I started my push up the track it was quite over grown and
in the dark it was slow going as I kept checking the map to make sure I was in
the right place. 10 km into the stage I came to one of the important cross
roads. In the dark I had troubles picking up the faint farm track that I was
meant to be on. After 15 min of looking I decided to bed down for the night. I
think it was around 1 am and I was not getting anywhere fast. I found a
comfortable sleeping spot back at the last point where I knew I was on the map
and waited for dawn.
Day 4:
I was up before dawn, packed and ready to ride. The cloudy
morning meant that it took a while to see the track it needed to be on. Sitting
on top of a rock tor I could finally make out the faint farm track making its
way up the ridge in the distance. I set off up the hill with my legs feeling
surprisingly good and NO knee pain, yay. However, now my right Achilles was
sore, which potentially could have been from me over - compensating for my
knee.
Looking back towards Alex on the Knobby Range
I had been here before, again as part of the Gold Rush
Multisport Race, however heading in the opposite (downhill) direction. The
climb to the top soon gave way to a fantastic downhill into Roxburgh which
helped bump the average speed up and clock up some easy k's for the morning. A
quick shop in Roxburgh for what I thought could be my last opportunity to get
fresh supplies and then it was off up the epic climb to Lake Onslow. The inside
of my mouth and tongue had developed some painful sores that stung when eating.
Choosing 'comfortable' foods to eat now became a real challenge. One thing I
found really good was the small bottles of favoured milk. There is even some
research out there showing flavoured milk to be an effective sports drink, so
it ticked two boxes.
I broke up the ~30 km climb up to Lake Onslow into 10 km
segments having a small rest and something to eat following each segment. The
mist was hanging low around the hills keeping temperatures cool as I climbed. I
finally broke through the mist and was greeted by the sprawling Lake Onslow and
some well overdue downhill. The next few hours were taken up with rolling high
country terrain and what felt like hundreds of farm gates (it is amazing how
many different latch configurations farmers can come up with to keep their
gates closed. Over this trip I beat I have seen them all). Down onto the Maniototo
Plains and it was a strong head wind all of the way into Ranfurly for a quick
feed, air the feet out and swap some chat with some friends who meet me there.
Somewhere on hot and dusty road
After 10 min or so it was time to push on to Naseby, Danseys
Pass, Kurow and who knows maybe, even make a start on the Hukataramea Valley.
With 145 km already in the legs it would be a game of wait and see. While the
Naseby Water Race Track was a nice break from the 'gravel grinding' the bumps
were torture on my battered bum. Luckily it was only a short detour. The
streets of Naseby were buzzing with families enjoy the last of the sunshine as
I pasted through only stopping to use the toilet. The climb up to Danseys Pass
was a little bit of a letdown (in a good way). I had prepared myself for
another epic climb, however the grade was quite gentle and more than
manageable. As I rode towards the ominous looking dark clouds I knew that I was
going to be getting a bit wet for the second time in the Brevet. As I crested
the pass the thick fog limited visibility to about 5 meters and it was raining
quite steadily. I rugged up warm and started the descent in the fog and now the
dark. With minimal visibility the descent was extremely slow going.
CRASH
If the going was not already slow enough I came around the
corner onto a bridge that had raised wheel tracks. I found myself in the middle
of the bridge between the raised tracks and was drifting to the outside of the
bridge due to coming out of the corner. My wheels started rubbing up against
the raised wheel tracks and I tried to get back into the middle. However, with
the weight of my loaded bike, downhill speed and force coming out of the corner
I could not pull myself back on track and ended up hitting the ground hard. My
right knee took the full impact of the crash and almost instantly started to
swell Great, now my right knee was sore again! With blood running down my leg
and my knee stiff and swollen I took stock of the situation and did a bit of a
quick body check. Nothing else felt broken or bruised, what a relief. I
proceeded to Duntroon with whatever the equivalent is of limping on a bike is.
All I can tell you is that it was slow.
My knee at Duntroon
My knee in Tekapo the next day after finishing
At Duntroon I was having trouble pedalling so I stopped to
inspect the damage. I got out my compression bandage and bandaged my knee as
tight as possible while still allowing some movement for pedalling. Then
getting back on the bike I pointed towards Kurow and half one legged pedalled
and rolled the longest 20 km of my life along the 'painfully' straight flat
highway. When I finally arrived at Kurow I doubted I would be able to make it
to Tekapo tomorrow with how my knee was. Because it was around 1.30 am I knew
Lily would not have appreciated a SOS call for a ride, so I decided to get some
sleep and see how it felt in the morning. As I lay there with my knee throbbing
I had a feeling that the morning was not going to be bring anything apart from aches
and pain!
Day 5:
I woke up in a content sleepy daze. This soon disappeared as
I quickly remembered where I was, how I felt and what there was left to do. I
sat up and went to get out of my bivy bag. Then I felt it, my knee. While it
was not as acutely sore as it was last night it was not very keen on bending. I
pulled on my shorts for one last time, just as well as, the chammy felt like
cardboard. I used copious amounts of chammy cream everywhere and then hobbled
around getting my bike packed.
All that separated me from Tekapo now was 105 km and 1110 m
of climbing up and over the Hakataramea Pass. Luckily the going was pretty easy
early on and it gave my knee a chance to warm up. As long as I did not push too
hard with my right leg the pain in my knee was bearable, just. I plugged in the
ipod for the first time this trip and set to work ticking off some k's. As long
as the conditions stayed good I could be in Tekapo for lunch, maybe.
The sun was out, it was calm and things were good. I reached
the end of the seal at Cattle Flat and had a quick stop to finish off a pie
that I had picked up in Ranfurly yesterday. I washed this down with some water
that had a mix of 1/2 tablet of Nuun Cola and 1/2 tablet of Nuun Tri berry.
Which tasted pretty close to raspberry and coke! Yum. The only complaint is
that it did not come with ice.
At the top of Haka Pass
Not far to go now!
Pushing on, the wind started to pick up as I climbed up
towards the Haka Pass. I was greeted with amazing views of Mt Cook and a
stunning downhill. The easy run had to end soon and as I hit the seal and
pointed my nose towards the final haul to Tekapo I was greeted with a stiff
headed wind. It ticked over 12 O'clock which meant I had missed lunch time in
Tekapo. I pushed on along the seemingly endless road and then that was it. I
was exhausted! I reached for my drink bottle and drunk the last mouthful of
dirty warm water as I shoved a piece of cold mince pie in my mouth. My feet
were throbbing, I had red hot pains shooting through my Achilles and both knees
were swollen. Oh and guess what? My arse felt like it had been repeatedly
hammered by a blunt instrument and sand papered for the last 4 days! As I
looked up the road all I could see was another hill and the consistent head
wind was getting really old! I was so close to the finish but it felt so far
away.
I had signed up to push myself and find my limits. I
wondered if this was it. Was this my limit or just another low point. I took a
big deep breath and started off again, one pedal stroke at a time. Struggling
up the final climb I started to see signs advertising Tekapo, not far now,
surely. Finally I rounded a corner and caught a glimpse of the bright blue lake
peppered with white capped waves from the wind. The final downhill in to Tekapo
was magic and as I pedalled along the final straight back to the Church of the
Good Shepherd all of the fatigue, soreness and pain disappeared. I was greeted
by my wife Lily and daughter Elsie. I sat on the grass and relaxed (truly
relaxed) for what felt like the first time since I left this place.
Pleased to be finished
It was around 1 pm and I had done it. 1100 km + with ~14000 m
of climbing in just under 100 hours. According to my GPS
tracker I covered 279 km on average each day with an average moving speed of
15.1 km/h. I had seen some amazing places and been some places that I had no
real desire to go back to any time soon with a fully laden bike. I was truly a
trip of huge highs and lows. Would I do it again..........YES, but not for a
while.
A big thanks to Dave for organising such an amazing ride and
well done to all of those who took part. Big love to Lily and Elsie for giving me so much strength and thanks to all of you for your support on line and out on the course. Also to my sponsors who helped me get to the start line and helped kit me out with the best gear.
Everyone was out there for different
reasons and with different goals. I just hope everyone found what they came
looking for. I know I did.
If you are interested in the gear that I used
check out this video or if you are keen to
know how I trained for this read this article.
