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| Ansa Vanessa Janine Nikki |
I normally do not struggle to talk or write...but somehow I have been at a total loss for words. Not because I have nothing to write about, but because I simply do not know how to quantify or do justice to the 6 days we were out there.
I guess to start I should maybe answer (albeit rather tongue in cheek!) a question posed to us by fellow racers Bloed and Omo: 'I often wondered how the all girl team coped with the stress when things didn't work out?"..... well I guess we coped the way woman have coped with hardship and pain for centuries.....we simply pushed harder! :)
This said, I must admit that this race hurt! I think the fact that I'd been sick for nearly 4 weeks before might have contributed to the hurt, but hurt it did. I did however learn many valuable lessons....socks being one of them! I also learnt what one can achieve if you put your mind to it...how far one can push on when your body mind heart and soul are screaming, begging you to stop. I learnt the true meaning of teamwork and camaraderie and I can only but thank my amazing team mates! YOU GIRLS ROCKED!
I think we were looked at with a mixture of amazement, and I guess a little bit of intrigue by many of our fellow racers. I was asked before the race who was going to navigate as there was no 'male' in our team.....when I replied that I was navigating, I was told rather matter of factly that we would no doubt be booking extra nights at Port Edward resort as we would probably not be out there for very long......as hard as it was....I refrained from commenting as I know how those things can come back and bite one!
I arrived at the race start in a very much less than desireable state...mentally and physically. The month leading up to d-day was apalling. A very tenacious chest infection invaded my body and was not at all keen to hit the road. I was literally forced into a 3-4wk taper of NO training! Panic started to set in properly about a week before and my last minute trying to find a replacement girl who could navigate did not help in the getting better struggle! This proved to be impossible, as did finding even a guy who could at the 11th hour fill in. So it was off to the warmer climes of Port Edward. I still don't know how I managed to actually arrive there with all the necessary gear as my brain was not anywhere near to where it should have been!
The day or two before the race is almost harder in some ways as the logistics, packing and planning have to be spot on in order for one to have a good race. We were on a very tight schedule to pack our bike boxes, especially as Vanessa and Ansa had been plagued by delays and arrived later than hoped. Luckily Janine and I had been able to assemble the bike boxes before they arrived. After race briefing we were able to work out what we would need where, which resupply boxes needed what clothing and equipment and where we would be getting new maps.
Saturday morning saw us hitting the beach with our local lad Bongani. Each year we are required to participate in a comunity project organised by Heidi and Stephan. This year, our challenge was to teach a local child how to paddle.....in the surf! Somehow I got selected by my team for this task....and in hindsight, it was the best thing as it paid off the next day. I'm not sure whether this 'lesson' was for the children, or rather for many of the teams not used to the sea!
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| A picture worth a thousand words..... |
Luckily for me, Bongani could swim quite well and his shrieks of absolute delight made any discomfort at getting a bit bashed around and wet all the worth while! He literally took to it like a duck to water!
That done, and with all the packing finally done and the kit checks and proficiency checks done, I finally managed to sneak off for some quiet time before race start at sunrise on Sunday.
I felt amazingly calm, which scared me in a way, as there were not going to be many free kilometers on this course. But then again, how does one prepare yourself for: 11km kayak, 12km trek, 5km kayak, 80km trek, 10km canyoning, 120km cycle, 67km kayak, 40km trek, 230km cycle?.....nonstop.......
Race day.....Somehow spectacular sunrises have a way of just making all worries go away and you are left feeling tingly!
Eventually the NSRI came close enough for me to ask about the girls. They confirmed that they were still trying to get through and after nearly an hour, we were eventually re-united....Janine already sporting the beginnings of a black eye and Ansa looking like she had been on a super wash tumble and spin cycle!
Leg 1 and we had already lost an hour.....not a good start, especially as I had been confident that our paddling skills would give us a good jump start as both Janine and I are not novices to paddling...but I guess that is the nature of the sport!
We quickly settled into a good rhythm. Being a keen fisher"woman" I was fascinated by the little patches of Sardines already visible as the Annual Sardine run started to make its way up the coast. I was hoping to see some game fish action as the birds were already showing signs of working, and although I saw one or two, it was not what I had hoped for, although I think secretly many racers were hoping for the opposite as it would also mean sharks!
As we neared the beach, my pulse rate started to rise again as this was my real nemesis, coming back in through the surf! I decided not to tell Vanessa how poep scared I was. You could almost feel the vibration of the surf pounding onto the beach through the water. I decided not to be hasty and rather sit a bit and watch the sets.....something which I regularly do on my fishing ski. My patience paid off as we caught a perfect wave from the backline, and with an interval here, a stall there, we managed to surf it all the way onto the beach and landed without even getting our hair wet....much to the amazement of a lone fisherman, who we later found out had had no end of entertainment with the other teams getting crunched.
Janine and Ansa were unfortunately not so lucky as they got crunched yet again resulting in a nasty swim coming in. They arrived on the beach looking rather like drowned rats! But.....still smiling!
It was a short little portage accross the sand dune to the river and a short hop and skip to the first CP. We were greated like heroes (we quite clearly had already developed a bit of a fan club...thank you guys....it was awesome!)
We were in and out the unofficial transition pretty quick, shoes in drybags and packs secured to the boats, we headed off up the Umtamvuna River. We caught the next team as we arrived at the start of the first trekking leg. We wasted no time putting on shoes, but the legs were heavy to get going from sitting in the boat for so long. The trek would take us along beautiful forest single track, climbing up onto the plateau. Navigation was pretty straight forward as it was all marked hiking trail. Once at the top, we were under the full force of the sun, and it hurt. I'd lost my hat in the surf and I started to feel fried.
We stopped for a quick water refill at the Conservation office and then headed back down to the river. We caught up to more teams and made our way along the rocky kloof, almost missing one of the check points....luckily we realised quickly enough and only had a short distance to back track, unlike some teams who had 5 odd km to come back! A welcome swim accross the river cooled us off and brought us back to the boats. We paddled hard back to the boat club near the mouth and once there, it was action stations!
We pushed hard to get out onto the long trek as quickly possible and utilise the remainig day light, something which would come back and bite me a day later. I had the marshal in hysterics as I finished sorting the maps out in my underwear (I think by the end she was used to the unfased and semi-naked state of the racers in transitions!)
Whilst I did the maps, the girls packed bags and organised food. I made a big mistake and did not check my bag before I left, something for which i can only blame myself and for which I paid for later on as I ran out of food and had no spare dry socks.
We set off out of Transition with Bad Medicine and hunted for the quickest way to the beach. Stupidly, this proved harder than expected, as we hit one electric fence after another and thick bush. Less haste....more speed...It took a while to get in sync with the map. We were joined by and caught up to a number of other teams and eventually we found the path and were on the beach. My confidence with the map quickly started to grow. I forced myself to stop and take stock of where we were and get my mind into what I was seeing vs what was on the map. We hadn't been going long and the light started to rapidly fade. The sunset was the first of many beautiful treats from Mother Nature we would get to experience.
As we found the path exiting the beach, we came accross a group of holiday makers having a very 'gesellige' braai! The offers of tjoppies and beer were tempting, but we tore ourselves away from the wonderful aromas and headed off towards the abseil. I secretly was terrified of it, but I later learnt that I was not alone! Mike de Haast was just as nervous!
The nav to the abseil was pretty straight-forward, only the last section required a bit of concentration as it was easy to veer off inland. We arrived at the abseil and were stunned to see about 10 teams all huddled in sleeping bags. Initially I though we had caught up, but then realised they had been waiting for close on 2hrs! Out came all the warm clothing and sleeping bags and we tried to get some shut-eye....this proved impossible! Finally it was our turn. I think the fact that it was dark was a blessing, as I could not see the 100m drop off the edge of the cliff!
We were told that it was quite a tricky descent as there were overhangs and trees. We had already heard of Laura (Mike's wife) smashing her lip open.
This did absolutely NOTHING to still my nerves! I think Mike and I stood on the edge with equally big eyes and thumping hearts! Strangely though, no matter how terrified I am, if I am forced to do something, I just get on with it! Once over the edge, it became a matter of concentration. About half way down, I got thoroughly tangled up in one of the many trees. The ropes had also gotten knotted up with each other, and my hiking poles which were attached to back of my backpack were also stuck on the wrong side of a branch. 
The only way to untangle myself was to try jumar (ascend) back up the rope, not easy when you do not have an ascending device! I sat in limbo for about a minute trying to figure out what to do. Fear was overcome by the need to be practical! After trying one handed to break branches, untangle ropes, hiking poles etc, I realised that the only way was to let go fo the rope completely and hope that my prussik would hold me safely so that I could use both hands. A scary prospect when you are hanging 50m off the ground! I think the fact that it was dark helped me ALOT! If I'd been able to see below me....and just how far I was from terra firma, I would probably still be hanging tangled up in that tree!
Branch broken, rope and hiking poles untangled, I now faced the next challenge, losening the prussik (which had unfortunately gotten stuck in my 8 -descending device) and continuing on my way! Luckily a fellow racer had explained to me during our kit check how to best do this, and after some shuffling of ropes and hand positions, I was eventually on my way down again, heart rate slowly returning to a manageable level!
I arrived at the bottom around the same time as Mike, and I'm sure I looked just as wide eyed as he did!
With all of us safely at the bottom, we set off accross the river and into agricultural land, heading for the coast.
Navving on a moonless night with no defining features is always challenging. I eventually gave up trying to following the cattle tracks, and we just bundu bashed through the long grass...not a very comfortable experience as we were very soon covered in spikey black-jack thorns. Having headed a bit too far north, we struggled to find the correct path to the river (of which there are many!). At one point, we popped out on the river bank, and after discovering that continuing along the bank was not an option, we considered swimming over....luckily I was not alone in my reluctance. It was very definitely supper time and the water was very alive. Transkei rivers and I are not exactly the best of friends at the best of times. I do hold the unofficial record for swimming accross a flooding Transkei river mouth with a backpack! So back up the hill. After about 30min, I saw a torch coming towards us. My first thought was, what on earth is a local doing walking around at this time (bearing in mind it was now past midnight! I asked the man if he spoke English. 'yes, he answered. My name is Riaan!'? my second thought was, that is NOT a local name.....but however strange I thought his presence might be, he didnt seem to think it at all strange that we should be fumbling around in the dark and promtly told us to follow him. When we got to the river, he pulled out a boat.......aha! it was a bit of a squeeze.....but he seemed unfazed and with me sitting on the gunnel, my bum just milimetes above the water (most of the time!) and the rest trying to maintain the critial balance of keeping the boat level, we headed off for what was a much longer paddle than we had all anticipated. Eventually, wet bum and all, we were deposited on the bank on the other side. Riaan received our thanks with a quiet nod and was off back to his boat and no doubt back to the other side.
Being back on the beach was like being on a highway. The pace was just so much faster. Partly because the nav was straight forward, but also, no bushwacking!
We got to quite a deep river, and it was time for our first 'swim'. We all quickly realised that it was time to bare all! Everyone set about stripping off and wading / swimming accross the surging water. I had the amusing experience of becoming up close and personally aquainted with one of Mike's tatoos........which brought some laughs to us all! But sadly, the laughs were short lived. Whilst getting dressed, I heard Mike say to Mark (Bad Medicines team captain), 'hey Mark, don't you want to come here quickly'......... now, having a husband who has a habbit of doing things to himself whilst out working and often hearing that specific tone of.....nix, wont you come help me quickly.....I know far too well what "that" tone means. My heart sank! I looked up and saw blood gushing out of Mikes foot! Oh dear!
But some prompt flushing out with my water bottle and Marks practised ER ability, Mark had him cleaned up and strapped up in no time! But stitches were in demand, and for this, Mike would have to wait till we could make contact with the Medic.
I must just add at this point, that Mike is one TOUGH bugger! I dont know of many people who would have carried on with a gash like that. It was also in the worst possible place, on the ankle!
But as they say, time waits for no man. After yet another river crossing, we left the beach to travel inland a bit as the beach and turned to rocks which with the high tide was too dicey.....this proved a mistake and after wasting some time, decided that it was time for some shut-eye. It was 4am, so 2hrs would take us to sunrise. Sleep although she had been knocking on the door for some time, suddenly became really elusive when I invited her in. I think the fact that I was not happy with our current route choice had a lot to do with it and when the time to get up finally arrived, I told the other that I thought we should go the 2km back to the coast and take our chances with the ragged coastline. This proved to be a much better option. We took a slight 'cross country option' back to the beach and quickly settled into a good rhythm.
I remembered in Stephan's instructions in the briefing
that he made a important point about the gorge and the crossing. Within a few
minutes, we realized what he had meant. Finding the path out, was proving to be
the biggest challenge yet. We searched and searched, and by the evidence of the
many footprints up and down the bank, we were not the first to do so. At one
point, annoyed at the waste of time we tried to bundu bash up, but quickly
realized this was not an option. There simply had to be a path. The path we had
come down was well worn by the locals, there was a village at the top on the
other side. I decided to go back accross the river and go up stream a bit to
see if anything was more obvious from there. Suddenly, from a different angle,
something resembling a path caught my eye. I rushed back accross and shouted to
the others in absolute delight.....yay! Onwards and upwards!
The light of the medic van was like a gift from heaven.
Mark got busy on Mikes ankle, and the medics got busy on the rest of us,
blisters, septic thorns and cuts.......we decided to try and get some shut eye,
and with the absence of any kind of tree, it was a cold and time wasting
affair. I didn't sleep a wink.....again.....we packed up and headed off,
leaving Bad Medicine behind. After an hour or so, the sleep monsters came in
hard. We found an embankment of sorts with a tree and tried to sleep. Sleep was
fitful and minimal and it was with a very heavy brain and eyelids that we
carried on.
Breakfast came in the form of a local spaza shop. We had long ago run out of race food. Baked beans, tinned pilchards, bread, milk and coke..man it was gourmet! And yes, the locals were now convinced these whites had seriously been smoking too much mountain cabbage! Whilst making our way up and around a koppie, emotions and pain hit me hard. It was to be the start of many dark moments. Ansa sang us a beautiful song, which left us all quiet and reflective.
Leaving Mboyti we were greated by a brutal climb back up
onto the plateau. The nav was relatively straightforward as we headed to the
magnificent Magwa falls.
Our route took us through villages and rolling
grassland hills. We hit one of the busier towns at the worst possible time.
Rush hour evening traffic, which in Africa is even more chaotic than in other
countries! Having survived that, we hit the dark. After riding off the road and
down the bank when I fell asleep, it was time to try and get some shuteye. It
was cold and after a fitful hour in a not so great spot, I realized that
instead of Ansa's warm body, I'd been spooning her bike! Lesson learnt for the
next time round!
The hike down into the valley was a steep, stony and
slippery affair. Not good on painful feet. The ride out the other side, was
brutally steep in places and even more agony on painful feet. Eventually we hit
the last road to the transition and start of the river paddle. A roadside
shebeen proved too good to resist and armed with dumpies (1L bottles of beer)
we flew down the hill to the boats.
Sometime around lunchtime, my feet developed a friend in
the problem department.....nausea....a borreling stomach. We'd heard reports of
other teams succumbing to gastro....I hoped it was not the case. Water had been
a big issue for me during the race. I was consuming ALOT. More than the others.
Partly to help with the anti-inflammatories.
My illusion of Nguni cows came back.....I wondered along in a rather brain dead state, just focussing on putting one foot in front of the other....when I nearly tripped over a cow. This time a real life breathing bovine, sunning itself along with about 50 others on the beautiful white sand of the beach. I was still not sure if it was my brain as it looked just too idyllic! white sand, palm trees, beautiful blue water.....but then I realised that it was actually real and not just another illussion!
Eventually the road off the beach and to Mbotyi appeared in the distance. Walking down the road to meet us was race organiser Stephan. He came bearing gifts....an apple each and a bottle of juice. Neither hung around for long.....although at that stage I think any liquid I drank fast disappeared in tears! Stephan ever practical told us to move it and get to Mbotyi. we had limited time to get going and were we carrying on.
It was hard for me. Harder than one would think. My feet were a mess. I was very aware that I was now very much the weak link and that I was getting slower. I also could not carry on with popping anti-inflamatories and the thought of putting on my cycle shoes again was almost too hard to bear. No matter what my heart said, I still held out hope of continuing and decided rather to wait for the Medic before making my final decision.
Arriving at Mbotyi was a bit like arriving at a field hospital tent. Bodies were strewn everywhere. Some curled up in sleeping bags, some staring into space whilst trying to pack gear for the final leg and others getting patched up by the medics. To my amazement there were far more teams than I expected. Some whom I had anticipated would be hours/days ahead of us. A very sore looking Lettuce (James Stewart of PennyPinchers team) popped out, feet wrapped up and looking to be a similar state to mine.
The medic gingerly pulled off the dressing on my worst blister and was greated by an erruption of gunky goo......one look at his face told me the answer to my question. My race was now officially over. Out came the scalpal and an hour later the pressure and mess that was my feet started to look a little better.
The girls were pushed for time now as they had to chase the light and the tide. They didnt waste any time in getting ready and it was an increadibly emotional goodbye. My heart was absolutely shattered! Staying was probably one of the hardest things I have ever had to do! They set off for a short cycle on the beach and then back onto the backroads for what was now a shorted cycle of aournd 140km back to Port Edward.
I loaded my gear into a friends bakkie, and along with James 'lettuce' and camera-man Steve, started the long trip by road back to Port Edward. There is nothing direct about the roads in the Transkei. It was a long and bumpy trip on the back of an open bakkie. I apologised to Steve for smelling like a pig sty, and asked if I could share his sleeping bag! Bless him, he obliged, so at least I didn't have to add 'hypothermic' to my list of ailments!
The girls by this stage had left the beach and now had the task of navigating the spiderweb of transkei roads in the fading light with a full night of challenges ahead of them. I was worried that they would manage as I had done all the night time navigating up to that point.
Arriving at Port Edward was an emotional affair. There are few things that hurt like intense disappointment. One always has that feeling of....have I made the right decision. Was it really that bad, could I have carried on......
After a hot shower, and some borrowed clothes (thanks to the Merrell Adventure Addicts) we headed to the restuarant for some food. Thank goodness their Chalet was right next to the restuarant. Even so, walking....hobbling was painful and slow! My steak looked tantalising, smelled tantalising.....but my stomach had other ideas. A couple of double flick flacks later and I realised that my steak would have to wait for tomorrow.
Sometime after dinner we received a call from Vanessa saying that Ansa was in a bad way. Tweet advised them to find a place to stop and bed down for a bit and to continue in the morning.
By morning we could see they were on the go again. It was so frustrating to sit and watch them on the screen. I tried to keep myself busy with collecting all our bags and gear that we had stored during the race and drying wet gear that had arrived back.
Entertainment of the day went in the form of the local Doctor. The medics had insisted that I get my feet seen to. His waiting room soon looked like a local vagrant hangout. Bodies lying on the floor sleeping under chairs. Swolen raw feet wrapped in all manner of dressings up on chairs and the odd cry of pain from within. The Doctor when I got to see him seemed to still be recovering from a big night and did not do much to instil a sense of wellbeing, especially as he looked like he had been painting in his pajamas!
Clad in some very funky purple floral slippers, I spent the rest of the day pottering around sorting out the remainder of the gear and trying to ignore the frustration.
Just before Prize giving and the closing ceremony, word came in the that Stephan had collected the remaining teams and that they were almost at the resort.
It was very emotional seeing the girls cross the line. I was so proud of what we and they had achieved! It was an epic journey, with many challenges. Highlights and definitely many lows. But we all grew as individuals and I'm sure that the memories that were made will be with us forever!
Thank you girls for being such awesome team mates! You girls ROCKED!
Thank you to Heidie and Stephan and all the volunteers for making the race such an amazing one and thank you to Kevin from EXTREME PROJECTS for his belief in us and his sponsorship!
Till next time!
We were in and out the unofficial transition pretty quick, shoes in drybags and packs secured to the boats, we headed off up the Umtamvuna River. We caught the next team as we arrived at the start of the first trekking leg. We wasted no time putting on shoes, but the legs were heavy to get going from sitting in the boat for so long. The trek would take us along beautiful forest single track, climbing up onto the plateau. Navigation was pretty straight forward as it was all marked hiking trail. Once at the top, we were under the full force of the sun, and it hurt. I'd lost my hat in the surf and I started to feel fried.
We pushed hard to get out onto the long trek as quickly possible and utilise the remainig day light, something which would come back and bite me a day later. I had the marshal in hysterics as I finished sorting the maps out in my underwear (I think by the end she was used to the unfased and semi-naked state of the racers in transitions!)
Whilst I did the maps, the girls packed bags and organised food. I made a big mistake and did not check my bag before I left, something for which i can only blame myself and for which I paid for later on as I ran out of food and had no spare dry socks.
We set off out of Transition with Bad Medicine and hunted for the quickest way to the beach. Stupidly, this proved harder than expected, as we hit one electric fence after another and thick bush. Less haste....more speed...It took a while to get in sync with the map. We were joined by and caught up to a number of other teams and eventually we found the path and were on the beach. My confidence with the map quickly started to grow. I forced myself to stop and take stock of where we were and get my mind into what I was seeing vs what was on the map. We hadn't been going long and the light started to rapidly fade. The sunset was the first of many beautiful treats from Mother Nature we would get to experience.
As we found the path exiting the beach, we came accross a group of holiday makers having a very 'gesellige' braai! The offers of tjoppies and beer were tempting, but we tore ourselves away from the wonderful aromas and headed off towards the abseil. I secretly was terrified of it, but I later learnt that I was not alone! Mike de Haast was just as nervous!
The nav to the abseil was pretty straight-forward, only the last section required a bit of concentration as it was easy to veer off inland. We arrived at the abseil and were stunned to see about 10 teams all huddled in sleeping bags. Initially I though we had caught up, but then realised they had been waiting for close on 2hrs! Out came all the warm clothing and sleeping bags and we tried to get some shut-eye....this proved impossible! Finally it was our turn. I think the fact that it was dark was a blessing, as I could not see the 100m drop off the edge of the cliff!
We were told that it was quite a tricky descent as there were overhangs and trees. We had already heard of Laura (Mike's wife) smashing her lip open.
The only way to untangle myself was to try jumar (ascend) back up the rope, not easy when you do not have an ascending device! I sat in limbo for about a minute trying to figure out what to do. Fear was overcome by the need to be practical! After trying one handed to break branches, untangle ropes, hiking poles etc, I realised that the only way was to let go fo the rope completely and hope that my prussik would hold me safely so that I could use both hands. A scary prospect when you are hanging 50m off the ground! I think the fact that it was dark helped me ALOT! If I'd been able to see below me....and just how far I was from terra firma, I would probably still be hanging tangled up in that tree!Branch broken, rope and hiking poles untangled, I now faced the next challenge, losening the prussik (which had unfortunately gotten stuck in my 8 -descending device) and continuing on my way! Luckily a fellow racer had explained to me during our kit check how to best do this, and after some shuffling of ropes and hand positions, I was eventually on my way down again, heart rate slowly returning to a manageable level!
I arrived at the bottom around the same time as Mike, and I'm sure I looked just as wide eyed as he did!
With all of us safely at the bottom, we set off accross the river and into agricultural land, heading for the coast.
Navving on a moonless night with no defining features is always challenging. I eventually gave up trying to following the cattle tracks, and we just bundu bashed through the long grass...not a very comfortable experience as we were very soon covered in spikey black-jack thorns. Having headed a bit too far north, we struggled to find the correct path to the river (of which there are many!). At one point, we popped out on the river bank, and after discovering that continuing along the bank was not an option, we considered swimming over....luckily I was not alone in my reluctance. It was very definitely supper time and the water was very alive. Transkei rivers and I are not exactly the best of friends at the best of times. I do hold the unofficial record for swimming accross a flooding Transkei river mouth with a backpack! So back up the hill. After about 30min, I saw a torch coming towards us. My first thought was, what on earth is a local doing walking around at this time (bearing in mind it was now past midnight! I asked the man if he spoke English. 'yes, he answered. My name is Riaan!'? my second thought was, that is NOT a local name.....but however strange I thought his presence might be, he didnt seem to think it at all strange that we should be fumbling around in the dark and promtly told us to follow him. When we got to the river, he pulled out a boat.......aha! it was a bit of a squeeze.....but he seemed unfazed and with me sitting on the gunnel, my bum just milimetes above the water (most of the time!) and the rest trying to maintain the critial balance of keeping the boat level, we headed off for what was a much longer paddle than we had all anticipated. Eventually, wet bum and all, we were deposited on the bank on the other side. Riaan received our thanks with a quiet nod and was off back to his boat and no doubt back to the other side.
Being back on the beach was like being on a highway. The pace was just so much faster. Partly because the nav was straight forward, but also, no bushwacking!
We got to quite a deep river, and it was time for our first 'swim'. We all quickly realised that it was time to bare all! Everyone set about stripping off and wading / swimming accross the surging water. I had the amusing experience of becoming up close and personally aquainted with one of Mike's tatoos........which brought some laughs to us all! But sadly, the laughs were short lived. Whilst getting dressed, I heard Mike say to Mark (Bad Medicines team captain), 'hey Mark, don't you want to come here quickly'......... now, having a husband who has a habbit of doing things to himself whilst out working and often hearing that specific tone of.....nix, wont you come help me quickly.....I know far too well what "that" tone means. My heart sank! I looked up and saw blood gushing out of Mikes foot! Oh dear!
But some prompt flushing out with my water bottle and Marks practised ER ability, Mark had him cleaned up and strapped up in no time! But stitches were in demand, and for this, Mike would have to wait till we could make contact with the Medic.
I must just add at this point, that Mike is one TOUGH bugger! I dont know of many people who would have carried on with a gash like that. It was also in the worst possible place, on the ankle!
But as they say, time waits for no man. After yet another river crossing, we left the beach to travel inland a bit as the beach and turned to rocks which with the high tide was too dicey.....this proved a mistake and after wasting some time, decided that it was time for some shut-eye. It was 4am, so 2hrs would take us to sunrise. Sleep although she had been knocking on the door for some time, suddenly became really elusive when I invited her in. I think the fact that I was not happy with our current route choice had a lot to do with it and when the time to get up finally arrived, I told the other that I thought we should go the 2km back to the coast and take our chances with the ragged coastline. This proved to be a much better option. We took a slight 'cross country option' back to the beach and quickly settled into a good rhythm.
The heat of the day started to set in, and water suddenly
started to become an issue, as we're my feet. Wet sandy socks were starting to
take their toll and despite trying everything I could think of, it was getting
worse. We eventually arrived at a
backpackers which doubled up as a checkpoint, hoping to find not only some
food, but also the medic who was meant to meet us there with a suture kit for
Mark. To our dismay, neither were available. After emptying the fridge of
remaining cold drinks, we set off again, heading inland and towards a big
gorge.
The trek into the gorge was beautiful, and to my delight I found not
one, but TWO dry socks, at different times, caught up in trees (obviously
belonging to other racers who had been through as I doubt the locals would be
wearing Falke mountain biking socks! ) suddenly my world seemed to improve
(amazing how simple things can make one happy!) so with socks stuffed into the
side pockets of my backpack, we continued down. My plan was to wash my feet,
put new dressings on and then FRESH CLEAN DRY SOCKS! Bliss. I could not wait.
The trek into the gorge was beautiful, and to my delight I found not
one, but TWO dry socks, at different times, caught up in trees (obviously
belonging to other racers who had been through as I doubt the locals would be
wearing Falke mountain biking socks! ) suddenly my world seemed to improve
(amazing how simple things can make one happy!) so with socks stuffed into the
side pockets of my backpack, we continued down. My plan was to wash my feet,
put new dressings on and then FRESH CLEAN DRY SOCKS! Bliss. I could not wait.
After an argument with a poison ivy we eventually hit the
river. The water was crystal clear and we jumped in backpacks and all and swam
the short distance accross. The minute my head went under the water, I cursed
as I realized my dream of dry socks, had just vanished! Sh*t. I nearly
cried! How could I be so dam stupid!
Man, the trek out was lung popping to say the least. We
eventually hit the top huffing and puffing.
But as with any race, there is no peace for the navigator
and now it was time to focus again on where we were going. A network of cattle
tracks and jeep track lead us through golden grassland and we were treated to
yet another glorious sunset. We weaves in and out of an reserve, clambouring
over and through game fences and it was during this time that I took probably
the hardest and silliest wipe I've had in a while. We were walking along a jeep
track in the dark, headlamps on dim to save batteries, and I stepped over a
blue gum branch lying in the road. As I stepped over it, Ansa stepped on it and
it popped up sending me sprawling literally face first into the ground! Luckily
I came off relatively unscathed.
Slowly we started to head back towards the coast and
Mkambati. Mark had arrange to meet the medics at the light house on the other
side of the river. We arrived at the old holiday resort on the eastern side of
the river and started to hunt for a way down to the river. All we could see in
the dark was steep densely vegetated slopes....not something we wanted to
tackle. After some wandering between the derelict buildings I found a jeep
track, which brought us to a beautiful old stone house, ablaze with lights. We
begged some water and whilst chatting to the one lady, discovered her to be the
mom of a girl I knew. It was really hard to leave, especially after the offer
of red wine and old brown. But with heavy shoes, we donned our backpacks and
headed off down the garden path (quite literally) and down to yet another river
crossing and to the lighthouse.
Getting going over a sleep is the worst. I find my body
shuts down and your body temp drops. I have uncontrollable shakes when I get
up, but luckily it doesn't stay for long. For me, even worse than the cold,
were my feet. I was now officially in agony. The medic had drained close on
60ml of bloody puss out of my foot at the lighthouse, and the other blisters
were starting to look just as dodge.
With sunrise, came villages, and hundreds of school kids
all making their way to their various schools. All ages, some carrying their
younger siblings, some running and some just enjoying the early morning glow.
They looked at us with interest and some asked where we were going and where we
had come from, their responses to our answers were amusing to say the least.
Breakfast came in the form of a local spaza shop. We had long ago run out of race food. Baked beans, tinned pilchards, bread, milk and coke..man it was gourmet! And yes, the locals were now convinced these whites had seriously been smoking too much mountain cabbage! Whilst making our way up and around a koppie, emotions and pain hit me hard. It was to be the start of many dark moments. Ansa sang us a beautiful song, which left us all quiet and reflective.
It wasn't long before Bad Medicine popped out of the long
grass, still hungry and wanting to stock up, we pulled into another spaza shop.
With stomachs now VERY full, we continued on to the final challenge for the long
trek....the canyon. We hit the trail down in to the canyon, with the sun fading
fast. With darkness almost completely
upon us, we hit the nerve wracking drops and massive boulders.
Route finding
was stressful. Luckily we had some slings with us and were able to use these to
negotiate the bigger drops. The rocks were like walking on bars of soap, and
what would have been a 6 hour stint in daylight, turned into a monster 14hr
crawl in the dark. It was brutal to raw blistered feet and Mikes delicately
stitched ankle.
Lack of sleep started to produce some entertaining
illusions. I was convinced that we had a herd of Nguni's in front of us. I kept seeing cows in the mist in front of
me. We all saw day-glo flags which we were convinced was the check point.
Finally though, the real check point materialized and after the final muddy
crawl up to the road, it was the last final bit along the tar to Mboyti. I
cried with relief! A hot shower to warm up and into one of the tents for some
much needed sleep....but once again, it wasn't great. My body clock knew it was
morning and after less than an hour of fitful sleep, I gave up. We had decided
with bad medicine to leave together. I
did the maps, got my feet seen to and tried to pluck up the courage to put on
my bike shoes.
My feet were horribly swollen not only from the long
trek, but also from the now very septic blisters. Just putting on socks was painful.
Eventually I couldn't put it off any longer and on went
the shoes. I was immediately rewarded by excruciating pain and light headedness
which had me on my back and in tears of pain. Doubt started
to creep in...could I ride 160km with feet like this......?
With help I got my backpack on and hobbled to my bike.
Once cleated in, the pain eased.......but cleating out was a challenge. I also became aware of Chaffe
behind my knee from sand that had gotten into my tights on the canyon leg. It was going to be a looong ride.
Our route took us through villages and rolling
grassland hills. We hit one of the busier towns at the worst possible time.
Rush hour evening traffic, which in Africa is even more chaotic than in other
countries! Having survived that, we hit the dark. After riding off the road and
down the bank when I fell asleep, it was time to try and get some shuteye. It
was cold and after a fitful hour in a not so great spot, I realized that
instead of Ansa's warm body, I'd been spooning her bike! Lesson learnt for the
next time round!
With tiredness come a slow brain, and a silly nav error
saw us taking a bit of a detour, irritating, but it could have been worse. The
sunrise once again was spectacular. Around mid day we hit the top of a massive
bowl shaped valley. We could see the river way down in the valley where we were
meant to paddle. The cycle leg had been lengthened by 40km due to the river
level being too low.
The hike down into the valley was a steep, stony and
slippery affair. Not good on painful feet. The ride out the other side, was
brutally steep in places and even more agony on painful feet. Eventually we hit
the last road to the transition and start of the river paddle. A roadside
shebeen proved too good to resist and armed with dumpies (1L bottles of beer)
we flew down the hill to the boats.
Seeing bad medicine about to leave, we left the beer,
grabbed our boats and hot footed (hobbled) down to the river. Paddling was a
very welcome change and we pushed hard to make use of the daylight. We were
treated to some interesting sights such as a lone JCB stuck in the mud in the
middle of the river. Once the sun set, the river came alive. Mullet jumping
nonstop. Vanessa got slapped in the face by one and I had a few land between my
feet. There were clear signs of a hunt as leervis caused eruptions amongst the
mullet....making one think about what else was swimming around in the Port St
Johns river, an area notorious for what I call tax men.....sharks.
After just over an hour and a bit, we hit the banks of
the resort and transition. We'd made exceptionally good time.
Once dry and warm, we sorted our kit, did the maps and
gobbled some pizza. The medics had a go at my feet, draining unbelievable
amounts of bloody puss from all four of the heal blisters. all patched up, We
opted to make use of the warmth and security of the conference room to sleep,
whilst bad medicine opted to head out and sleep on the route. This proved to be
our best decision. For the first time in five days, I slept a solid two hours,
uninterrupted and unconcerned.
Getting up was hard....putting on
shoes.....almost impossible. The first few km were unpleasant to say the least.
But eventually everything seemed to settle into a place that was bearable and
after some silly bundu bashing, we were in a good rhythm. At first light we hit
the first proper river crossing for the day. The was deceivingly deep and fast
flowing. Something we discovered when Vanessa almost got swept out to sea! Stripped
of everything from the waist down, we certainly supplied video man Steve with
some interesting footage!
Hot on the heals of bad medicine, we trekked back up
along what must be one of the most beautiful sections of coastline in the
world, to Mboyti. Another river
crossing, followed by some unsuccessful path finding, saw us crawling,
clambouring and clinging up a very steep cliff-like slope. Not my strong point
and it was with huge relief that I eventually crawled on all fours through the
brush onto the top.
Sometime around lunchtime, my feet developed a friend in
the problem department.....nausea....a borreling stomach. We'd heard reports of
other teams succumbing to gastro....I hoped it was not the case. Water had been
a big issue for me during the race. I was consuming ALOT. More than the others.
Partly to help with the anti-inflammatories.
We came accross another team with a very sick member,
lying under a bush. We gave them our remaining food as they were going to be
there for a while.
Water started to become a desperate issue. Eventually I
scooped from a cow poo infested stream, threw in some purifying tablets and
waited. I'd thrown in an extra one for good measure and realized after the
first sip, that it was undrinkable.
My illusion of Nguni cows came back.....I wondered along in a rather brain dead state, just focussing on putting one foot in front of the other....when I nearly tripped over a cow. This time a real life breathing bovine, sunning itself along with about 50 others on the beautiful white sand of the beach. I was still not sure if it was my brain as it looked just too idyllic! white sand, palm trees, beautiful blue water.....but then I realised that it was actually real and not just another illussion! Eventually the road off the beach and to Mbotyi appeared in the distance. Walking down the road to meet us was race organiser Stephan. He came bearing gifts....an apple each and a bottle of juice. Neither hung around for long.....although at that stage I think any liquid I drank fast disappeared in tears! Stephan ever practical told us to move it and get to Mbotyi. we had limited time to get going and were we carrying on.
It was hard for me. Harder than one would think. My feet were a mess. I was very aware that I was now very much the weak link and that I was getting slower. I also could not carry on with popping anti-inflamatories and the thought of putting on my cycle shoes again was almost too hard to bear. No matter what my heart said, I still held out hope of continuing and decided rather to wait for the Medic before making my final decision.
Arriving at Mbotyi was a bit like arriving at a field hospital tent. Bodies were strewn everywhere. Some curled up in sleeping bags, some staring into space whilst trying to pack gear for the final leg and others getting patched up by the medics. To my amazement there were far more teams than I expected. Some whom I had anticipated would be hours/days ahead of us. A very sore looking Lettuce (James Stewart of PennyPinchers team) popped out, feet wrapped up and looking to be a similar state to mine.
The medic gingerly pulled off the dressing on my worst blister and was greated by an erruption of gunky goo......one look at his face told me the answer to my question. My race was now officially over. Out came the scalpal and an hour later the pressure and mess that was my feet started to look a little better.
The girls were pushed for time now as they had to chase the light and the tide. They didnt waste any time in getting ready and it was an increadibly emotional goodbye. My heart was absolutely shattered! Staying was probably one of the hardest things I have ever had to do! They set off for a short cycle on the beach and then back onto the backroads for what was now a shorted cycle of aournd 140km back to Port Edward. I loaded my gear into a friends bakkie, and along with James 'lettuce' and camera-man Steve, started the long trip by road back to Port Edward. There is nothing direct about the roads in the Transkei. It was a long and bumpy trip on the back of an open bakkie. I apologised to Steve for smelling like a pig sty, and asked if I could share his sleeping bag! Bless him, he obliged, so at least I didn't have to add 'hypothermic' to my list of ailments!
The girls by this stage had left the beach and now had the task of navigating the spiderweb of transkei roads in the fading light with a full night of challenges ahead of them. I was worried that they would manage as I had done all the night time navigating up to that point.
Arriving at Port Edward was an emotional affair. There are few things that hurt like intense disappointment. One always has that feeling of....have I made the right decision. Was it really that bad, could I have carried on......
After a hot shower, and some borrowed clothes (thanks to the Merrell Adventure Addicts) we headed to the restuarant for some food. Thank goodness their Chalet was right next to the restuarant. Even so, walking....hobbling was painful and slow! My steak looked tantalising, smelled tantalising.....but my stomach had other ideas. A couple of double flick flacks later and I realised that my steak would have to wait for tomorrow.
Sometime after dinner we received a call from Vanessa saying that Ansa was in a bad way. Tweet advised them to find a place to stop and bed down for a bit and to continue in the morning.
By morning we could see they were on the go again. It was so frustrating to sit and watch them on the screen. I tried to keep myself busy with collecting all our bags and gear that we had stored during the race and drying wet gear that had arrived back.
Entertainment of the day went in the form of the local Doctor. The medics had insisted that I get my feet seen to. His waiting room soon looked like a local vagrant hangout. Bodies lying on the floor sleeping under chairs. Swolen raw feet wrapped in all manner of dressings up on chairs and the odd cry of pain from within. The Doctor when I got to see him seemed to still be recovering from a big night and did not do much to instil a sense of wellbeing, especially as he looked like he had been painting in his pajamas!
Clad in some very funky purple floral slippers, I spent the rest of the day pottering around sorting out the remainder of the gear and trying to ignore the frustration.
Just before Prize giving and the closing ceremony, word came in the that Stephan had collected the remaining teams and that they were almost at the resort.
It was very emotional seeing the girls cross the line. I was so proud of what we and they had achieved! It was an epic journey, with many challenges. Highlights and definitely many lows. But we all grew as individuals and I'm sure that the memories that were made will be with us forever!
Thank you girls for being such awesome team mates! You girls ROCKED!
Thank you to Heidie and Stephan and all the volunteers for making the race such an amazing one and thank you to Kevin from EXTREME PROJECTS for his belief in us and his sponsorship!
Till next time!
......because girls aren't just compulsory equipment!
