Eroica Montagu South Africa, 135 kms (84 miles), 2018.
65 miles, 5,495 feet, 6 hrs, 10.5 mph avg.
After the hustle and bustle of Cape Town the backwoods of Matjiesfontein and Montagu were a trip in Dr Who’s tardis back to the age of Victorian splendour and majesty. Took the opportunity to see a few sites on the coast, the site of the wreck of the Birkenhead where British soldiers and sailors stood to attention on the deck of their sinking ship whilst others and the women and children were saved in the few lifeboats, the shipwreck museum and light houses on the southern-most tip of Africa, a little bit of Boer war history and some very tasty locally line caught fish for dinner. The ride is in the 3rd year, and based in a small factory in Montagu, only 150 riders, but after a great ride in Cape Town, I was feeling good. Prepped bike as normal and treated exposed skin to a thick layer of 50+, judged that the overcast sky was good sign of a easy ride, set off with two other British riders and made good time on the very short, all too short, first section of tarmac. Then all hell broke loose, the next 10 miles was a real shock to the senses, everything was making a noise, eyeballs, joints, chain, gears, wheels, as my hands vibrated off the handlebars, we rocked and rolled over some pretty rough roads. The undulating rocks and stones should have been the home of fat tyred mountain gravel bikes not lightweight delicate road racers of many years vintage. I was so glad that I fitted gel pads to the bars under the posh Brooks leather tape. The track meandered across a rolling landscape of mountains topped off with deep blue skies, a roller coaster of short up hills and even shorter downhills, as we gained height the constant attention to riding in car tyre tracks was only matched by the physical pain of keeping some speed going. The farmer’s pickup trucks had no problems with washboard roads and threw up billowing comet tails of fine dust in their passing. This was countered by taking a huge breath as the car approached and holding it for a long as possible before the expiration of life. In the desolate landscape the first water stop at 25 miles was a small affair at the entrance to a farm, a few tables and a barbeque, and filtered water, in a clump of shady trees, how I wished to have stopped for longer in the shade, but my ride schedule was completely wrecked, and I had to get on, leaving this oasis of tranquillity the road surface improved and the big chain ring saw more of the poor dusty chain and the Garmin was reporting double digit speeds. Then, pop, hiss, wobble wobble, rear wheel puncture. For the first time on the Holdsworth a puncture, and it couldn’t have happen in a worst place, but never daunted a spare inner was inserted and with the caution of an old man on an old bike and only one spare inner remaining, we progressed with care. Until a few miles later and pop went the rear again. This was a little worrying, half through the ride the next 30 miles was a bit like purgatory on wheels, hot baking sun, a long ribbon of white road ahead and behind, deep blue skies over mountains on all points of the compass, nothing that lived in sight, no spare inners, I never felt less like a hero on this ride billed as the Eroica (the Hero). Eventually the road surface became easier and then water was the new worry. Onto the first bit of the most welcome tarmac and a rush to the farm on the horizon was rewarded with a few lovely moments in the shade of trees, and refilling water battles for the dreaded climb up the next pass, and to the last water stop. The final leg back into Montagu on 25 miles of tar roads was a blessing but closing into the finish against a strengthening head wind was too much for tired and sunburnt legs and the kind offer of a lift was gratefully accepted. By far this was the hardest event which we had taken part in, the rough roads and burning sun had left their marks on machine and skin, any thoughts of doing another heroic ride are quickly squashed, (until the next ride). South Africa was a revelation, very nice people, great scenery, lovely food, and some interesting history, all added to a memorable experience. Unlike the other events with masses of riders there was little interaction with anybody so I resorted to quietly shouting to a passing by carbon equipped youngster -you won’t be doing when you are 66, young lad’. It was amusing to see a baboon raid on the petrol shop which netted a large multi bag of Dorito crisps (other crisps were available). Highlights were: Matjiesfontein and 10 minute tour on a London bus, shipwreck museum at Bredasdorp, Birkenhead wreck site (Women and Children First) at Danger Point, Agulhas lighthouse museum and most southerly point in Africa and the meeting of the two seas (Atlantic and Indian), Frachenbosch car museum, Stellenbosch gardens, Hermanus historic port, Dylan Lewis sculpture park.