“The descent must be one of the best in the world. Flowing trail, switchbacks tight enough to induce some squeaky bum time – but not so tight that your bum squeaks with nervousness – and glorious bumps and jumps make the section fly by.”
Day 4 at the Old Mutual joBerg2c, Sterkfontein Dam to Winterton, is the stuff of mountain biking dreams
The flat Free State is left behind as you drop off the escarpment and into KwaZulu-Natal. Last year I started Day 4 poorly thanks to a stomach bug that had ripped through the race village. This year I felt much better but ended with a bang after flying down an embankment on what is a bloody good piece of singletrack that runs down Spionkop.
Before Spionkop, though, you climb up from Sterkfontein Dam – after eating some amazing potjie the night before – and ride along the escarpment on a section called Great Wall My China. You only realise what a Great Wall it is when watching the TV highlights in the evening – it’s here that you really get the feeling of being on the edge of the world, and that one poorly timed over taking maneuver might see you plummet off that edge.
What goes up must come down, and to get down you hammer a sweet piece of singletrack called Solly’s Folly – though I noticed some route signs called him Solly and Sollie, so I’m not too sure if there are two Sollys, or if someone got confused.
Anyway, the descent must be one of the best in the world. Flowing trail, switchbacks tight enough to induce some squeaky bum time – but not so tight that your bum squeaks with nervousness – and glorious bumps and jumps make the section fly by.
Before you know it, you’re in KZN and flying down Bezuidenhout’s Pass, which this year was so dusty I was forced to pull over and wait for the dust cloud to settle before riding on.
My partner Andrew was chasing the clock for a flight back home. As soon as we agreed to part ways, I fell off the mountain, which is a really stupid thing to do when I’m here to ride mountains rather than fall from them.
After a minor scare from the doctor, I was declared fit for day 5, a ride from Winterton to Clifton School in Nottingham Road. With 112km and 2200m it’s one of the more demanding days of the race. Partnerless, and battered, bruised and jolly sore from my fall, I set my sights on a long day of lonely riding. Luckily, though, one of the highlights of this event is the friendliness of almost every rider taking part. This is a tour of the country, and most people treat it like a damn fine day of sightseeing. I was able to tag along with different groups for much of the day, cruising home much quicker than expected.
The beast of the day was an arduous three-layered climb that went up, then up, and then just for good measure, went up some more. A drop, then a steep climb towards Mooi River, then a few more drops and gentle climbs took us home to Clifton with the school bagpipers, rather fittingly, wailing out The Flower of Scotland.
Day 6 is probably the hardest day of the event – I say this only because we have to climb out of something the organisers call the Valley of Death. Never a good sign.
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