Marathon mountain bike races are not just about the Elite racers. The beauty of a Marathon race is how varied the field is. Whether you are a veteran racer, a roadie having a crack at mountain biking, or one of the nations top class cross-country racers, you will tackle the same trails, in the same conditions.
We caught up with a group of social road riders who dabble in the dirt. The Highland Fling suits the group as another test piece upon which bragging rights can be formed. Four riders from the large group took part, and each had a different story to tell. First up was Andy Ryan, a wordsmith by trade, and a past Fling racer. With some time to recover, he was able paint a vivid picture for those at the cafe who had not taken part.
“The Fling in a word: carnage. Imagine hundreds of shell-shocked Diggers at the Somme, blundering aimlessly through no-man’s-land, stumbling into putrid craters, tripping over fallen comrades, not knowing if they will savour a home-cooked meal, an honest woman, or toilet paper ever again. Then imagine these noble, pathetic souls slouched over mountain bikes. Or alongside them, pushing.” Pausing for effect, Ryan let his brief monologue sink into the seated crowd before continuing.
“Dolce et decorum est pro velo mori. A sweet and fitting thing it is, to die for one’s bicycle.” Recounting the trials of running out of steam and moving at paces far slower than a road bike may take them, Ryan had a unique point to make about our dependance on gadgets, and their usefulness:
“As I passed Jon Dundas-Smith clutching his cramping hamstring up another hike-a-bike climb, I noticed he had a Garmin.
“How far have we come?” I asked.
“No idea,” Jon grunted. “The Garmin doesn’t register speeds under five kilometres per hour, so by now it’s completely inaccurate.”
Kristen Pimpini had a different experience. A gifted bike handler, it seemed his one goal was to wheelie across the finish line, in a time faster than his other mates. He was animated as he recounted his ride, and the positioning of his entourage of curiously moniker-ed mates, including ‘The Bandit’ (A.K.A. Mark O’Connor), a one time BMX National Champion of England, whose mentality remains to ‘ride it like you stole it’…
“We all set off, The Bandit not to be seen: off like a rocket. Horn and I pushed through the crowds and slowly got through. After a few descents I had lost the Horn and every now and then saw the checkers [their group’s kit is Peugeot-esque – Ed.] of the Bandit ahead. I picked him up just before the first neutral feed station so put a dig in and got in 10 seconds before him [it’s a tactical game].
“We headed off, saw the Horn on our way out, and the next section was tough. Technically and heat-wise, it was really cooking out there. Mark and I got to the next station – me just ahead. We stopped for water and food, then headed off again together. The fire roads kicked in and I pulled away from the Bandit, just prior to this he said:
“There’s no way I’m doing the 100 miler next year.”
“I hit the next neutral zone a couple of minutes ahead of him. We were in the zone where I said to Mark I had to keep going, as I felt good. There were some great flat sections where I felt I was riding well. With only 30 kilometres -to-go, at this pace and terrain, well…. I thought I could nail it. Sub five hours should be possible…” Pimpini paused, and gazed into the distance, pondering what might have been. This last part of the course had taken its toll on all riders.
“Then came the Rollercoaster, and trouble. A great section of single track if I didn’t have four hours in my legs then two killer climbs out. At this point Nick Both caught me with less than 10 kilometres-to-go. I received some encouraging words from the big guy, I jumped on his wheel thinking, ‘okay, I can be a “wheel sucker” all the way home’. But I lasted two kilometres, I was getting tired.” He did manage to keep moving though, and crossed the line in five hours 31 minutes. A stellar time, but not without its disappointment.
“If I have one regret, it’s not having the energy to do a wheelie across the line.”
Steve Horn was virtually making his mountain bike debut. Although tremendously fit, the others doubted his ability to negotiate the singletrack and put his power to use. Despite a great start, this was somewhat true.
“It must have been somewhere in the Wingello loop that I heard the first Elite riders catching me. So I ended up crashing over a rock, and heard a hissing sound. That’s never very good on a bicycle, and I realized I had completely torn the valve off my rear shock.” Horn completed the ride sans suspension, or pedal clearance, and crossed the line with Ryan in six hours 40 minutes. However, he was philosophical about his adventures off-road.
“It’s a whole different ball game. It certainly opened up amazing new experiences for me. And it is funny how the mind blocks out hard times. I think I can remember only a few minutes of the event now.”
The ‘Bandit’ was relatively quiet by his experience, perhaps humbled by his defeat. Were there any regrets?
“I should have had a banana and half an energy bar earlier, so I didn’t get so tired.” Sometimes it’s just the basics.
And so the stage is set for this group’s next off-road outing having committed to do battle against one other at a 24 hour race in the new year. Certainly similar stories were recounted in cafes and pubs all over the Greater Sydney region over the past ten days. This is but one Marathon adventure.